Portrait of an Artist

The 100th and final(?) post

2008-07-06T18:57:00.001-04:00

The infamouse PL packed up her blogspot bags and switched over to a wordpress blog. She was drawn in by the plethora of themes and... stuff. Am I following suit? Yes. The pressure of my one peer who consistently reads this blog has turned me. In fact, I already did turn. Am I easily swayed? Yes. But she's a good influence - I swear.

I'll miss this blog. And while it's treated me well, it has never felt exactly true to fit. I have to say, the wordpress themes are a compelling reason, but the final straw is that I have finally come up with a new name for a blog - so it seemed as good a time as any to make the switch.

Head on over to thoughts are made of water.

Peace out, cub scouts.

Perdón?

2008-07-02T13:30:00.000-04:00

I was standing on the platform, waiting for my train to be announced yesterday, when I heard people - young backpackers, for lack of a better term - talking behind me in an undeterminable language. We made eye contact, I smiled meekly, and went back to gazing at the screen.

The guy approached me to ask a question. I was secretly thrilled. These people! People of my stripe! They know I that I have traveled, but they know that I am native. That I am a wealth of information. That I am young and capable and flexible like them. They know I have stood in train stations gazing at boards with distant, unknown locations in countries unseen, all while locals are going about their lives, not knowing what they were missing. I had been to the other side and yearn for it always. I will not fail them.

While his accent said Eastern European, his appearance said Spain. "Excuse me," he said in heavily accented, but perfectly comprehendible English, "can I ask you a question?" I already had my earbuds out, iPod paused, attention rapt. Where were these two beautiful and anonymous people going? They needed my help! They asked me because I knew! I wondered if they needed a guide. "Which of these," he continued, gesturing at the board, "can take us to Niagara Falls?"

This, unknown to them, was sort of a stupid question. For several reasons.

"You want to go to Niagara Falls?" I said as seriously and kindly as I could, making sure that I got this right, not wanting to send them to upstate New York for a very specific and somewhat outdated tourist spot. "Yes, the Niagara Falls."

"Oh, honey," I wanted to say. It was the cutest thing I'd ever heard.

I wanted to tell them where to go - someplace more fun - have you ever been to the Southwest? You've never seen anything like it! Go to the Grand Canyon before it crumbles under the crushing fist of pollution. Go to a nature reserve in Idaho - near the Snake River - where I was born! Well, not in the river, but close bye... Maybe we'll see wolves! There's Red Rocks in Colorado - always wanted to see that. Maybe you want something more urban. I hear Chicago is incredible - cheaper than New York and beautiful at this time of year. I have a friend there... You like barbecue? We'll go to Memphis. I've always wanted to go to Memphis. We'll laugh at their hats, but secretly want to buy one, because we know that on us, they would look awesome...

Instead, I directed them inside to the Amtrak information center. There was no direct way to upstate NY, that's for sure, but a change-over in NYC... or maybe the Amtrak people would tell them to go by bus... either way, they probably made it to Niagara Falls by 4 AM or decide that it was too much of a hassle and changed their plans.

I'm on that platform everyday if they change their minds.

Anatomy of a Mix: Josh Ritter for Beginners

2008-07-01T13:06:00.001-04:00

In honor of the Josh Ritter and Co. concert I attended Friday, I decided to do a (semi)formal introduction of eight tunes to JR - some of his more popular songs that give a glimpse into his musical catalog.

He's been compared to Leonard Cohen, Dylan, and Springsteen, and draws inspiration from Mark Twain - but JR is very much his own man/musician/manician? I can't wrap my head around why he's not more popular, but what can one do beside spread the good word? If you dig what you hear, snag a CD or three, hit up iTunes, or grab passes to a live show. You won't regret it.

And now, on to the mix!

From Josh Ritter (1999)

Stuck to You (The Science Song)
Well there's one more thing, I'll tell you if I can / It is not love that makes a non-stick frying pan...

Story goes that JR was to become a neuroscientist just like his parents. Upon reaching college, he switched majors to "American History through Narrative Folk Music." He combined his former pursuit and his new love in a little song called "Stuck to You," a hidden track on his self-titled debut LP. Twangy and cheeky, this is the first JR song I remember ever hearing, some point sophomore year in college... I wonder if he ever played the Wheaton coffee house...

From Golden Age of Radio (2002)

Come and Find Me
If I could trace the lines that ran / Between your smile and your sleight of hand / I would guess that you put something up my sleeve

Before I'd known that JR lived in Providence for a spell, I long had associated this song with the quiet, empty streets of East Side in August... In any case, this pensive and intimate song floats perfectly into the warm air of anyone's summer evening.

From Hello Starling (2003)

Kathleen
I won't be your last dance, just your last good night / Every heart is a package tangled up in knots someone else tied / I'll be the one to drive you back home, Kathleen

While this song may bring specific joy to the heart of every girl named "Kathleen," it tugs on the heartstrings of every girl with ears thanks to the opening line all the other girls here are stars - you are the Northern Lights. This one is always greeted with deafening cheers in concert, and my favorite lines of the song (the ones above), reach their maximum potential when performed live.

Snow Is Gone
I’m not sure if I’m singing for the love of it or for the love of you

When the weather in New England, or wherever you find yourself, warms up after a dreary winter, it's hard not to be joyous. And to find and declare love on top of it? How is that not worthy of a song? I, myself, find it impossible to (1) not sing along with this song and (2) not smile while doing so. Watch the live version and you'll see I'm not alone in that sentiment.

From The Animal Years (2006)

Wolves
But I still remember that time when we were dancing / We were dancing to a song that I'd heard / Your face was simple and your hands were naked / I was singing without knowing the words

A sad song in a major key. Some of JR's best work lingers in this seemingly contradictory landscape of tragedy and jubilation - a kind of joyful heartbreak. It blends regret and retrospect with the sentimentality of beautiful days-gone-by... this may be - and I don't say this lightly - a perfectly written song.

Girl In The War
But I gotta girl in the war, Paul, her eyes are like champagne / They sparkle, bubble over, in the morning all you've got is rain

One of two more overtly political songs from The Animal Years, this presents a hypothetical conversation between Peter and Paul (guess which ones), concerning the overwhelming feeling of powerlessness when everything that matters is on the line. This one is sure to give you goose-bumps.

From The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter (2007)

The Temptation of Adam
We passed the time with crosswords that she thought to bring inside / "What five letters spell apocalypse?" she asked me / I won her over singing, "W-W-I-I-I" / She smiled and we both knew that she'd misjudged me

Combining an apocalyptic love story with a sense of humor, this song is one of the more popular among the NPR crowd. Taking place in a missile silo while the subjects guard the "big red button," it's (generally) about knowing that even glorious perfection must come to an end.

Check out a solo live acoustic performance here.

Right Moves
I said, what if we are like the Northern Sky? / What if there are things that come between us that we can't take back and we can't make right? / And you said, I don't know darlin, but I'm here with you / And we're coming to the chorus now!'

A few Fridays ago, I was walking from work to downtown Boston - a hearty but pleasant trip. The sun was shining, it was a warm and breezy day... "Could this get any better?" I asked myself.

This song popped up on my iPod and I instantly broke out into a smile as I strolled down Commonwealth, trying not to dance at the crosswalks. This song is nothing but pure, unadulterated feel-good.

Je tombe du ciel.

2008-06-30T10:10:00.000-04:00

This weekend, through the power of Netflix, I was able to finally see Angel-A, a film by Luc Besson, director of Leon: The Professional (my favorite Gary Oldman movie) and The Fifth Element. It came out last year, but sort of slipped below the surface, as most foreign films are wont to do in the US market.

Shot entirely in black and white, on location in Paris, the movie is about André (played capably by Jamel Debouze, who you may remember as Lucien in Amélie), a down-on-his-luck (almost) good-for-nothing. After facing the fact that he owes immense sums of money to gansters and lowlifes all around Paris, he decides to kill himself by jumping off a bridge into the Seine. While standing on the edge, he looks over to see a beautiful, statuesque woman (Rie Rasmussen as Angela), about to end it all on the same bridge. He saves her, and in return, she follows him around Paris, helping him pay back his debts and right his wrongs through more bizarre and surreal methods.

The film is almost thematically divided in two lopsided parts - the former is relatively funny and almost light-hearted considering the circumstances; the latter - more dark and dramatic (revelations abound!) The whole film is beautiful - deep, inky blacks and luminous pearl whites in the city for which black and white photography was practically invented. From a photographic stand-point, it's downright sexy.

While "classically" shot and lacking in hand-to-hand combat, this is unmistakably a Luc Besson film; there are surreal (some would say sci-fi) themes, some obvious one-liners and a beautiful but lethal and scantily clad female lead. Besson's films have a tendency to follow a smart, strong woman who acts as the pillar of a male/female dichotomy, until she ultimately needs the support of the man... while better than 99% of the portrayals of women on film, some may argue he's falling into a thematic rut.

While Angel-A isn't perfect, it's engaging and bold, and who doesn't like a little dose of simultaneously languid and rapid Parisian French every now and then? Check out the trailer for yourself.

I don't know darlin', but I'm here with you - and we're coming to the chorus now!

2008-06-28T16:32:00.003-04:00

Last night was a night I've been looking forward to ever since I was at a laundromat/web café in Valencia, buying my tickets under the impatient gaze of blinking ticker noting my rapidly decreasing surfing time. Yes - last night was the Josh Ritter/Boston Pops show.

I wasn't able to find a home for the second ticket I had, but saw some Wheaties I knew at the show and chatted with them before and after. And seeing as how I would have dropped twice as much for the seat I had, I'm trying not to look at it as a waste. My seat was fantastic - on the floor, only two rows behind the big dogs who dropped $80 on their seats. And the concert was phenomenal. This is the third time I've seen Josh and the guys perform since last October (what can I say - they keep playing shows here and I keep showing up), and this was definitely the grandest performance.

He opened with a haunting and intimate version of "Idaho" (appropriate for a haunting and intimate song), followed by what might be my favorite, "Best for the Best." Upon hearing the first opening chords, my eyes welled up with tears and I cursed myself for wearing mascara. Beautiful renditions of already near-perfect songs. The rest was a bit of a fantastic blur, but they played (among other songs) "Temptation of Adam," "Girl in the War," "Thin Blue Flame," Right Moves," and "Rumors" - where everyone promptly (and appropriately) exploded at the line my orchestra is gigantic - this thing could sink the Titanic. They also performed "Wildfires," one of the most simple and powerful songs off of The Historical Conquests, and one of my favorite JR songs to date. Such a thrill to see that done live.

Late in the show, Robert Pinsky did a reading, and even though I work in the same building as the man, it was the first time I'd ever seen him. He certainly added his own enjoyable dramatic flair to the show.

And while the Pops looked like they had a little too much starch in their shirts, it was obvious the guys were having a blast, and nothing's better than a bunch of joyful and skilled performers. While closing with "Empty Hearts," a song with a very singable chorus, Josh said, "if you ever wanted to sing at Symphony Hall, now's your chance." And yeah - I sang along - that is to say, I threw my hair back and I sang along (name that song!) You could tell the audience was comprised almost entirely of people who were familiar with the music, and the enthusiasm was palpable. It was an amazing monster of a show and I spent the train ride home with a smile on my face. Always a joy, that Josh Ritter. Always a joy.

Oh, oh my God... whatever... etcetera...

2008-06-25T16:26:00.000-04:00

This song kept me from completely writing off Easy Tiger, Ryan Adams' second least amazing album. (The first least-amazing being the "snap out of it!" worthy-of-a-slap Follow The Lights EP.) And this particular live and electric version of this song makes me love it even more... especially when he screws up and yells, "stab me in the eye with the Empire State Building!" For that moment, he is the Ryan we know and love... in a highly dysfunctional sort of way.

For no other reason than music for music's sake, here's Mr. David Ryan Adams...

Anatomy of a Mix: Amplify!

2008-06-19T16:10:00.004-04:00

A little bit of techno, a smidgen of hip-hop and lots and lots of guitars. Here are some tracks that ask - simply by being - to be turned up.

Wolf Parade - Dear Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts | Now we'll say it's in God's hands / But God doesn't always have the best goddamn plans, does he?

This song was selected by Josh Radnor (who plays Ted on "How I Met Your Mother") for his "iTunes Celebrity Playlist," with the following description: "This song makes me want to drink eight pints of beer and punch someone in the face. In a good way." I could be down for that - though not on the receiving end of the punch, thanks.

Then I'd give this particular Josh R. a high five cause he's got pretty rockin' musical taste. We'd then pass out (well, I know I would after eight pints), slumped in adjacent corners while Spencer Krug howled and "la la la la la la'd" his way through this sloppy, loud, and amazing song from Apologies to Queen Mary. Upon gaining consciousness, I'd then ask him about the status of the Ninja Report.

The National - Mistaken For Strangers | Make up something to believe in your heart of hearts / So you have something to wear on your sleeve of sleeves

This song, from The National's latest release while not especially loud, grumpy, or overtly "angsty," deserves to be played loud... in the headphones of your soul. The lead singer's voice is something to write home about - cool, clear, and controlled without being contrived - it feels like it would echo perfectly out over the streets of New York City at 2am. The rapid guitar and immaculate drums just give this song more to love.

Beck - E-Pro | See me comin' to town with my soul / Straight down out of the world with my fingers / Holding onto the devil I know / All my troubles'll hang on your trigger

My version of this is not DRM free, so you'll just have to be satisfied with the youtube video (which is a total trip, by the way), and then hopefully pick up this amazingly funky and loud track for yourself. This song vaguely reminds me of "Minus" from Odelay.

To sum up my feelings about this track, if there was an army of zombie ninjas to fight Shaun of the Dead-style, I think I'd choose this song for my heroic, irreverent anthem.

Danger Mouse - Encore | Who you goin' find doper than him with no pen / Just draw off inspiration / Soon you goin' see you can't replace him / With cheap imitations for these generations

Take the best band of all time and (arguably), the best rapper alive (according to Ryan Adams, Jay-Z should be the first artist to play on the moon), put them in the hands of a DJ genius, and this is what you've got.

Danger Mouse (one half of Gnarls Barkley) took Jay-Z's a capella Black Album, magically mashed it with the Beatles' White Album. This particular track takes Jay-Z's "Encore" (obviously) and pairs it with "Glass Onion" and "Savoy Truffle." The raw, looped guitar placed alongside Jay-Z's über-masculine vocals and lyrics makes for a track that deserves going up to eleven.

The Pixies - Where Is My Mind | With your feet in the air / And your head on the ground / Try this trick and spin it

This track from Boston-based band, The Pixies, was done way back in 1988 - but it's held up remarkably well over time. The general renewed interest in it undoubtedly has to do with its use at the end of the deranged, all-too-often misunderstood, and entirely awesome movie, Fight Club. In terms of titles, you'd be hard-pressed to find a better song to fit the theme of the movie.

The nearly-dissonant guitar and vocals of this song have a tendency to enter your ears and clang around inside for a while, so don't be surprised if you happen to find yourself echoing the ending "ooooooh ooooo"s to yourself while washing dishes.

Deep Dish - Flashdance [Radio Mix] | He didn't mean to catch my eye / Well he's lucky he just walked on by / If he ever met a girl like me / Are you kidding? / Well I'd tell him that I'd rather die

Deep Dish, the Iranian-American DJ duo, came to the US way back when and started making music - and what music they make! Songs by these guys have a tendency to slip themselves onto multiple playlists during my summers with their good vibes and sweet sound.

But this guitar-driven house track (is it house? I get all the electronic sub-genres confused), is motivational for those of us with two X chromosomes. With firm but super-feminine vocals from fellow-Iranian Anousheh Khalili, both the song and video are something of a metaphorical kick to the groin...

That is to say, this one is for the laaaadies...

Monstrous Media Mosaic

2008-06-16T19:26:00.001-04:00

Eryn: i want you to make one of these
Eryn: even though they're kind of cheesy

What can I say? I'm a sucker for my twin and collages - that's two for two, my friend. Below are the formal directions... Va bene?

- Type your answer to the following questions into Flickr Search
- Choose an image you like best from the first page of options
- Copy and paste the URL for each into the Mosaic Maker

Questions:

1. What is your first name?
Alec. The story behind that varies with each telling from my parents, so... yeah.
2. What is your favorite food?
Authentic Italian (twin!)
3. What high school did you go to?
East Providence High School (Go Townies... oy.)
4. What is your favorite color?
It varies, but blue is a safe bet.
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
Let's just say if Jake Gyllenhaal ever wants my number, all he's got to do is ask...
6. Favorite drink?
Anything with whiskey...?
7. Dream vacation?
New Zealand, though from what I hear, I may never want to leave.
8. Favorite dessert?
Pie.
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
A writer. Who gets paid.
10. What do you love most in life?
Family and friends are the obvious choice (because it's true.) But I'll say Music.
11. One word to describe you.
Contradictory.
12. Your Flickr name.
Little Hooligan

1. Alec Soth notes, iii, 2. ✿✿✿✿✿✿ OLD italian COINS ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿, 3. Weaver Library East Providence, Rhode Island, 4. Sun and Signs, 5. jake-gyllenhaal-premiere-magazine08.jpg, 6. Whiskey, 7. The Remains Of A Giant Under A Hawkes Bay Sky, New Zealand, 8. Untitled, 9. one would., 10. Bokeh Melody, 11. Pull, pull, push, push: who to believe?, 12. Little Hooligan 2

"I thought there was too much cymbal... but I always think there's too much cymbal."

2008-06-16T16:19:00.000-04:00

I texted my friend Emily on Sunday morning and she replied "it sounds like you spent the weekend like a 20-something should." That sounds about right.

Saturday, I met up with One Eye, Erin, and Erich with the specific goal of seeing The Fall, the beautiful epic film that was years in the making and took even longer to get distribution. It's only playing in two theaters in Boston, but I've been dying to see it since catching the trailer a couple of months back.

The movie is about a little girl in a 1920's era Los Angeles hospital who becomes friends with an injured (and suicidal) stunt man. He tells her a story that eventually blurs the line between reality and fantasy as the film progresses. Lee Pace does a great job as Roy, the stunt man, and Catinca Untaru is bizarrely good as the little girl, Alexandria. There are a surprising number of laughs and a heart-wrenching scene (I cried whenever Lee Pace cried.) At times, the film reaches too far and becomes disjointed, but it never falls completely apart and remains completely entrancing. The director, Tarsem Singh, was the man behind the video for R.E.M.'s "Losing My Religion" (arguably one of the best songs and videos of the 90's), and I would say that his skill set has sharpened over the years.

In short, if you're into aesthetics and it's playing at a theater near you (or even not-so-near), I heartily recommend The Fall.

After the movie, we went back to Erin and Erich's, and hung out with their friend John. After One Eye took off, we had a mini cook-out, some beer, some mojitos, and eventually ended up at a nearby bar. The house band was - kid you not - a group of 12-year-olds with a 20-something on drums. They looked like brothers and I've got to say, they weren't awful. We went back to the apartment, had some smores and I went to bed. After an evening of imbibing, gravity takes a hardy toll.

In the morning, we hit up brunch (of course) and I tucked and rolled out of Erin's car at a nearby red line stop. I had time to kill before my train, so I zipped over to Diesel cafe for an Accelerator to-go (luckily the weather was cool enough for a hot latte), and then headed home. My plan for Father's Day was going to be a homemade meal of his choice from a menu of my creation, but because of my longer-than-anticipated weekend in Boston, I didn't have the chance to actually make said meal. We went out to dinner, instead, which simply means that next week I shall unleash culinary magic... or mediocrity.

I do, however, have quite the bone to pick with the MBTA (the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority.) Boston has the oldest subway in the country, so obviously, there's maintenance to be done... but everywhere I need to go, construction abounds. And not just any construction, but massive re-haul construction - on the commuter, red and green lines (i.e. every line I happen to use.) NO BUENO. It's like The Big Dig: Part Deux. Maybe if they didn't spread out their resources quite so much they could manage to actually complete something in less than ten years.

But I am young. I shall persevere among the jackhammers and orange cones and shake my fist at any overly-sassy teamsters... though not too much, or I'll end up in a bag at the bottom of the Charles.

Hobo stew... a little of this, a little of that, and a shoe.

2008-06-05T19:40:00.003-04:00

There are a few things I want to blather about, and I love lists... ergo, I give you a list of random stuff that I find interesting.

Politics
To be forehead-slappingly obvious, Obama got the Democratic nomination, and Clinton has (gracefully/finally) stepped aside. Things are starting to come together, people... as long as the more extremely bitter of Hillary's supporters don't go to the dark side. I don't care who you are - four more years of similar ideology is not what this country needs. I overheard more than my fair share of anti-American sentiment abroad, and it's going to take a long time to undo that damage. Let's start now, shall we? Not to beat the old drum of "CHANGE," but I'm thinking this Obama fella might be able to get us back on track.

Art & Literature
After two solid years of sitting on my bookshelf, I've finally started de Kooning: An American Master. So far, it's fantastic. De Kooning has always been one of my favorite artists and he was really one of the last romantic, striking, artistic figures in American art. He was flawed and complex; he's compared to (and sometimes is in the shadow of) Pollock, as they were both Abstract Expressionists, but de Kooning had less bravado and was less brash than Pollock. Pollock ran the risk of drowning in his own machismo, but de Kooning was always in flux and found any sort of "definite" to be incredibly claustrophobic. He was a man of contradictions - both in his art and his life, making him a pretty awful boyfriend and husband, but a phenomenal artist.

The book also touches on influences of other artists in de Kooning's life, including the tremendously tragic artist, Arshile Gorky. The picture of life during de Kooning's time is so exciting. Poor artists running around New York City, doing things you'd think poor artists would be doing... and more. The book covers a good range of material, but manages to stay focused on de Kooning and the big picture at the same time.

Film
Chuck Palahniuk's 2001 novel Choke, about a sex addict and con artist who works at a colonial-era theme park to support his dementia-afflicted mother, has been made into a film. It features Anjelica Huston and Sam Rockwell in the leads - both very appropriate choices. I hope this isn't like most other Sam Rockwell movies, where he does a great job... but is stuck in a lame, horrible, very bad movie. The trailer for Choke is here. Judging from that alone, it seems to stick very closely to the book - the stripper scene included. Palahniuk translates well to film - it's a shame they refused to make Survivor, my favorite of his books into a film. That had real potential.

Music
I don't really have much music news, except that Calexico has announced they're releasing a new album, Carried To Dust, on September 9th. Apparently, the band's been whittled down to just Joey Burns and John Convertino for this record... whether that's a permanent change, I'm not sure. I wonder if they'll tour as a whole...

Moving on, Jack Drag, the husband of the husband/wife duo, The Submarines, has done a remix of Josh Ritter's "Rumors." You can catch it at My Old Kentucky Blog. It's pretty good - very different from the original, but still sort of stays within that sort of whacked out Historical Conquests vibe. Peaks my interest in those crazy Submarine kids.

Barcelona: I fell in like with you.

2008-06-04T16:34:00.001-04:00

I just realized that I hadn't yet posted about the Barcelona leg of the Eurotrip with Rach. Whoops. Alright, let's brush off the cobwebs.

What I remember most distinctly about Barcelona was that it was completely overwhelming - in size, culture, noise, population - they simply have MORE of everything (including an insane amount of French.) Valencia, though the third largest city in Spain, was considerably less... jarring. While only a four hour train ride away, the provincial dialect was completely different, thus throwing another wrench in the already-shaky works of my Spanish. I missed the Valencian lisp... dearly. Where's Joaquin?

But we were there to learn... nay - to live! Our hostel was a super scene little place, two blocks back from Las Ramblas, one of the main drags of Barcelona. The staff was friendly and the place was clean. The downsides? Really noisy and in need of at least one more shower. More than once I was in line in the hallway with bed-head and a pre-caffe con leche frown.

We went generally exploring the first and second day we were there. We took in the Gothic church and the district of the same name. One of the highlights of the entire trip was seeing the man, pictured above, playing panpipes outside of the church. What he playing you ask? How about Frank Sinatra's "My Way," backed up by a stereo playing the little midi version of the same song. When Rachel and I took the elevator up to the roof, we could hear those pipes of Pan as we ascended. Glorious!

We made the pilgrimage to the Picasso Museum. It was interesting in terms of scope - most of what they had was not the "best known" Picasso, but rather, a lot of his early work and a considerable number of prints and drawings. His early drawings were... phenomenal. When you find yourself saying "wooow!" at the scribbled study of a goat, you know the man was good - not to say that everything he touched turned to gold - but you have to admit, he was arguably the best artist of the 20th century.

Discuss.

We also took in all the Gaudi we could handle. We spent a full day and a half with him, actually - bouncing from site to site. We first hit Sagrada Família, which was nothing short of mind-numbingly awesome. As Kenny Rogers once said, "I saw so much, I broke my mind." It's not even complete and it's one of the most beautiful man made structures I've ever seen. I must go back to see it completed... sometime after 2026.

Next, we swung by Casa Batlló, a private home in the theme of a man-eating dragon. It was, devastatingly, closed for no apparent reason. Luckily for us, Gaudi is everywhere and we walked a mere two blocks up and found another private residence-turned-museum in Casa Milà. The most interesting places were the attic - a winding series of brick archways - and the roof - a series of stairways, towers, and arches... tremendous. The interior was gorgeous as well. Gaudi took a Frank Lloyd Wright approach to most of his projects, in that he designed everything, down to the chairs and door knockers. Fantastico.

The next day, we hoofed it out to Park Güell, and I think of the movie 10 Things I Hate About You...

Chastity: I know you can be overwhelmed, and you can be underwhelmed... but can you ever just be whelmed?
Bianca: I think you can in Europe.

I was whelmed. Rachel was whelmed. The park is pretty amazing. It's gigantic, with multiple sections with different visual themes... but it was so incredibly overrun with people that I wanted to scream. The last part we visited was the long mosaic tile bench, which winds around the terrace above the main gate... we couldn't see any of it because it was covered by the asses of a thousand fatties. I expected people, but not what seemed like an organized mob sent to piss us off. Rachel and I both left feeling rather letdown, and sought comfort in our cervezas. Perhaps we should have been less naive, but it was, to put it gently, anti-climactic.

The last full day was spent mostly at a beach in Sitges, a tourist town about an hour south of Barcelona. When the water touched our feet, Rachel screamed. It was cold. Cold even for this jaded New Englander. The temperature of the Atlantic off the coast of Maine in early June. COLD! We took a picnic lunch of bread and fruit, which we ate almost immediately. Rachel said, "oh man, I'm not going in." I cocked my head and looked at her because she already knew the answer. We, of course, went in. How do you not swim in the Mediterranean? Sure, our lips literally turned blue (well, violet), but damn it - we went in. And it was good.

One of the scariest/"we can laugh about it now!" moments took place on the last night. Rachel and I decided to take a different route back to our hostel, which was between a Russian a Middle Eastern neighborhood. We head down this street, somewhat populated with people... we soon realize, however, that they're all men. We start getting that fight-or-flight feeling... but then we see a woman hanging out and think "phew!" Turns out that it's a hooker... of course. Meanwhile, the guys are watching, sort of following Rach and I in small clumps. I think to myself, "if street-smart Rach gets freaked out, then I'll freak out, but until then..." As if on cue, Rachel grabs my arm - HARD. Crimeny. We dive off that street to a slightly less freaky street with some drunk clubbers, and start talking...

Rachel: Did you see that?
Alec: You mean the freaking "Thriller" video that was following us?
Rachel: No - the street filled with hookers!
Alec: I saw the one hooker...
Rachel: No - there were more! I looked down one of the alleys and it was FILLED with hookers! AHHH! We're gonna DIE!

As we were walking back towards Las Ramblas to get back to our hostel the non-hooker filled way, we saw a couple of cop cars filled with attractive and extremely bored policemen going to scatter the wolves of Barcelona and the hookers paid to love them. We needed to shower and go to bed. ASAP.

To end on a positive note, earlier that night, Rachel and I went out for dinner and a cute little French family sat next to us. It was a youngish couple with two little boys - a redhead around five or so, and a little blond cherub around two. The two-year-old takes one look at me and was, apparently, smitten. He spent the whole evening smiling at me, hiding his face, then smiling again and trying to edge closer to me on the bench, getting upset only when his mom pulled him back. The mom was thoroughly embarrassed and frustrated, the younger brother thought it was hilarious, and the dad was trying not to smile. When the little one tried to sneak over to our table, I told the mom something in French along the lines of "no worries." She gave me a meek grin and they left shortly thereafter. I would have nabbed him if I thought I could make it through customs with one extra towheaded French toddler than I'd left the country with. He was too cute. I don't know why two-year-olds think I'm awesome, but they do.

Anyway, to sum up this series of random events, I enjoyed Barcelona, but not as much as I thought I would. I didn't fall in love with it - as I had expected. If I had the chance to go back, I guess I would, but not without some reservation (as in "couldn't I go to Seville, instead?") But I'd be willing to see what else it had to offer. And catch up with Gaudi.

The trip home started off frantically, and ended quite easily. Rach and I got to the Barcelona airport in plenty of time, but were told that we had to check our bags - something we'd manage to avoid. No bueno. The flight from Barcelona to Dublin was running late and, on top of that, took longer than expected. We knew we were going to miss the connecting flight and our bags. We touch down in Dublin and us and two guys going to Boston were ushered upstairs, thrown into a van, zoomed through customs, and dropped off at the gate. We ran onto the plane and were greeted by, what else but a pleasant Irish woman who said, "oh, no needtah run garls! The plane inn't going tah leave withoutchu!" I wanted to hug her and stay in that glorious country until they found me and gave me the boot back to its little snot-nosed brother of Boston. We were the last people on the plane and plopped into our seats - which had individual screens and a list of shows and movies to choose from... even an episode of "Father Ted." I was overjoyed. The flight was without incident and when we arrived, we were unnecessarily sassed by a fake-cranky Boston cop (home!)... and both our bags were there! Rachel declared it a St. Patrick's day miracle, in spite of it being about two months late. My parents were only ten minutes late picking us up. It is a miracle!

Back home, Rach and I ate our weight in chips and fruit, crashed and had brunch with my fam the next day at Julian's. At the Providence airport, we parted ways as we always do - without much pomp and circumstance - because we know we'll see each other again.

The end.

Anatomy of a Mix: Bring it down to a simmer

2008-05-29T02:46:00.001-04:00

I was going to do just a random assemblage of music, but seeing as how I just had to deal with some intense bureaucratic crap over the phone, I think I'll dedicate this post to chilling out.

Jamie Lidell - Multiply
I'm so tired of repeating myself / Beating myself up / Wanna take a trip and multiply / Least go under with a smile

This came up on my iTunes at just the right time. It's a low-key track, but has enough kick and funk to bring you up. Sing it, you beautifully gawky Englishman.

I would love to see Jamie Lidell in concert next week (I picture him belting out a song while standing on a piano... that's on fire), but I guess none of my Wheaties have sooooooooooooooul, unlike some people and those people's husbands who tell me things like "Jamie Lidell? I'd be there in a hot second." Damn it, Wheaties.

For now, I'll just nod my head along with JL's vocal stylings and toy with/tease myself with thoughts of going to ACL this year.

Josh Rouse - Come Back (Light Therapy)
I miss my serotonin / And my days are goin' nowhere fast

Josh Rouse (my other favorite Josh R), writes lovely and (for the most part), mellow songs... so it was just a matter of sticking my hand into a hat and grabbing one. This track is a little more upbeat and funky (yeah, bass line!) than most other Josh Rouse other songs, but it's still sunny, sweet, and a bit more clever than the average "I miss you" song.

I heard he's off being cool and mellow and mumbly somewhere in Valencia... that lucky so-and-so... Buenath diath, Thignor Routh.

Josh Ritter - Good Man
My hands held on, my mind let go / And back to you my heart went skipping

"Best for the Best" is like laying your head down on the world's softest pillow that smells of beach roses and lets you dream of a field of wriggly puppies. But I've already blogged about that song... and there are other amazing Josh Ritter songs that make me stop and smile, so I'm posting one of those numerous others.

"Good Man" was featured on "House," so it's become something of a hit for JR (relatively speaking.) As far as I'm concerned, he's too amazing for the popular palette. He's the amarena gelato in world of sugar-water ice cubes...

Ok. Getting back to my point... whatever that was... this song - the live version in particular - makes me smile. This past sunny Friday afternoon, strolling solo through downtown Boston, it came up on my iPod, and I found myself smiling out of sheer content... even via recording, that Ritter grin is damn contagious.

A little bit of feel good DOES go a long way!

2008-05-25T18:28:00.001-04:00

Jamie Lidell's been "under the radar" lately... that is to say, he's been ALL over the place lately... relatively speaking. I was skeptical, because in most cases, the artists who pop up like inflatible pool toys due to one song usually spring a leak shortly afterwards and slip back below the surface where they usually belong. So I bought - not without some cynicism - a few tracks off of Jim and Multiply on iTunes. Fastforward a few days later and I've treated myself to the whole Jim album.

So far, so good... and by "good," I mean "really freakin' awesome." I'm smiling just listening to "Green Light" right now. What a way to start the summer. Below is his video for "Another Day" - very Stevie Wonder-esque - but with considerably bizarre visual accompaniment. I partially blame his Britishness. Enjoy.

Give me a scotch - I'm starving.

2008-05-23T16:05:00.000-04:00

I don't care what you think - Iron Man is awesome.

I'd been dying to see it since I caught a glimpse of the trailer several months back and I finally got around to it this past weekend. While my DVD collection is filled with foreign, sincerely serious, and artsy indie flicks to beat the band, I do enjoy a good action flick... especially when it features a jacked man with facial hair... and surprisingly enough, Robert Downey Jr. fits the bill.

In real life, RDJ comes across as something of a gifted and charming shithead (which can tragically be attractive), so it's no surprise that he flips between sarcastic and sincere, spoiled and sympathetic with ease as Tony Stark, the not-so mild mannered alter ego of Iron Man. And I want more - a wish that will apparently be granted in 2010. This is good, because I want to know what happens (P.S. if you see it, stay through the credits.)

RDJ's obviously done some good work in the past - most recently rocking the cravat* in Zodiac, a great suspense flick with a trifecta of awesome male leads (the others being Gyllenhaal and Ruffalo). There are also a few other movies of his that I need to catch up on... A Scanner Darkly, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints, and Charlie Bartlett (well, he's been busy...) There's also the upcoming Tropic Thunder, which looks pretty hilarious.

So it seems like things are looking up for RDJ. Sobriety has obviously done him a lot of good... unlike someone else I can think of...

* It should be noted that my brother believes that no one can "rock the cravat." I believe he is in the minority.

Round two: FIGHT!

2008-05-22T15:30:00.000-04:00

Oh Valencia... where to begin? Rachel and I left Florence with a heave and a sigh (the heave from our hauling our heavy bags and the sigh out of sentimentality.) The Pisa airport was relatively small, but rather sleek - and much more efficient than Florence or Bologna (P.S. NEVER fly into Bologna.) We got to Valencia sans hitch - it was perfect. The Valencia airport is connected directly (like walk-down-one-flight-of-stairs directly) to the clean and efficient Metro system. Five or six stops later, we were wandering around a glorious plaza made of marble, surrounded by bright Baroque buildings, looking for our hostel. The hostel was nice - very simple, but bright and clean. A shower and sink in the room, along with our own balcony - not bad, eh?

One of my favorite moments from the whole trip actually was rather trying at first. The first evening in Valencia, we went exploring the evening and got lost in the Valencian suburbs. We were both hungry and tired and had low blood sugar (the one common thing that can make us both less than pleasant to be around.) At one point, I notice that Rachel is no longer walking beside me. I turn around to see her asking a handsome, middle-aged man tethered to a wire-haired fox terrier, in broken Spanish, where's a good place for tapas? He was awkwardly charming (he had "professor" written all over him), and his English was a bit better than our Spanish, so we continued our conversation in steady and purposeful Spanglish. His wife came out of the store we were standing in front of, and he explained our situation. They had a good-natured argument about directions and restaurants until the wife motioned for us to go with them. So we followed this adorable couple through the surprisingly busy streets. The missus left on her own errand, so we continued on with the man - pausing while he returned a DVD at a Blockbuster.

We found out that his name was Joaquin and his dog was Terry. And we love him.

After about ten minutes of walking, with a great big smile and a wave, he left us in front of a nice tapas place with great shrimp and an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for this wonderful place - this beautiful Valencia - which, only an hour before, made me nauseous after I realized I couldn't understand anything anyone said. We also had our first taste of the Bud Light of Spain: Estrella Damm. Well, maybe it's more like the Spanish Sam Adams, since it's actually potable and rather nice. The food is great - lots of seafood, lots of fried, and yet, somehow, I still lost weight... I love the Spanish.

We did the adventure to the City of the Arts and Sciences. This involved a metro stop and about 48 miles of walking in sunshine, which is nice, unless you're of a certain P&C complexion (peaches and cream, yo). We trekked to the largest aquarium in all of Europe and spent most of the day mooning over over Beluga whales and sea lions. On the way back, the heat and sun caught up with my pale Northerness and I was slapped in the face with a bout of heat stroke and a rather nasty sunburn. While I slept off my nausea, Rach adventured out and found the super scene area of Valencia that was strewn with tapas places, shops and churches (of course.) We spent the next couple of days primarily in that neighborhood, exploring churches, drinking caffe con leche, and eating... there was much eating.

The thing I may love most about daily European life is the market/mercado. Quality fresh food, good prices, and good variety. You're bound to be more adventurous in your cooking and eating if you know where your food came from. There's the occasional farmer's market around here, but if there could be something large-scale and more consistent, my life would be... wondrous.

Strange Things About Valencia

• Wedding shops. EVERYWHERE. We also witnessed evidence of four weddings on one day. Apparently, getting hitched is quite en vogue in V-Town.

• Bull fights. Still big. Like, NASCAR big.

• I saw something with Dr. Phil on it. I don't remember what, because I forced it out as soon as I saw it, but I thought I had escaped his grasp.

• More "Strange Things About Valencia" under "Reasons Why Rachel and I Liked Spain (Valencia in Particular)"

Reasons Why Rachel and I Liked Spain (Valencia in Particular):

• Fatties! Yes - fat people! After Florence - a city of slender Italians in four-inch heels - we found ourselves surrounded by an equal number of beautiful, youthful Spaniards and Spaniards with yoga pants and beer bellies. Human after all!

• Spanish people do it. All the time. How do we know this? Babies. BABIES EVERYWHERE. Baby here, baby there... babies every-fraking-where. Like pietas in Italia, you're bound to see more than your fair share of babies in Espagna. Also, their version of a TV drama involves a comical amount of sex scenes. Hilarious bordering on just plain weird.

• They fucking LOVE chocolate. Not only are there chocolate shops everywhere, but also, after watching a couple of hours of Spanish TV, Rachel and I noticed that out of, say, seven commercials, five of them were for some sort of chocolate-based product; the other two commercials were for weight loss and feminine hygiene products. Take from that what you will.

• Dos cervezas = doth thervethaths. I adore the Valencian lisp - Rachel on the other hand, was not a fan.

• Caffe con leche. Unlike Italians who sneer at you for ordering a cappuccino after noon, the Spanish will whip up a less frothy version for you at any time. Though I missed the pomp and circumstance of a cappuccino, there was something to be said about getting what you wanted exactly when you wanted it. There are shops everywhere. I became very dependent on caffeine during the trip - I'm still trying to wean myself off 3-5 shots of espresso a day.

Anyway, both Rachel and I enjoyed Valencia a lot. While we expected it to be nice, I think we were both still pleasantly surprised. We came to the conclusion that it's a very livable city - there's open space and well-kept parks, nice public transit, and what seemed like stable, relatively diverse economy. It was tourist-friendly, but not "touristy" - an unfortunate bog that Florence has become thoroughly lodged in. The weather was perfect and the city was very clean. Anytime we asked for directions, someone was more than happy to help.

Oh Valencia, if I spoke Spanish, I'd be back to you in a heartbeat with a working visa.

Anatomy of a Mix, Part Four: Earn Your Sassy Indie Stripes

2008-05-20T14:24:00.001-04:00

I had an incredibly brief reunion with the Reginator Thursday that consisted of a T ride and a latte - way too little. That was followed by exact the same thing with Rob on Friday evening, but in reverse order. Now I'm just spinning my wheels with too little to do, occupied only by mild caffeine shakes and Pandora. So I'll throw together a music post. That seems less financially frivolous than ordering accessories for my new espresso maker and a bit more constructive than creating a chain of paper clips or fervently checking icanhascheezburger.com.

Dr. Dog - Heart It Races (Architecture In Helsinki cover)
And we slow to acknowledge the knots in the laces / Heart it races!

I like this song. A lot. (Well, this version of this song.) My time in Europe was one of the longest stints in years that I've gone without being constantly tied to my iPod - I only used it on flights... I usually log four hours every weekday, not counting music constantly playing on my laptop at home or blasting my iBoom on weekends. (P.S. never get one - the sound is crap.)

But the whole time I was in Europe, this song was solidly lodged in the space between my ears. I would absentmindedly start singing one of the verses and the "bod-a-ba-bop!" accompaniment, and apologize to Rachel for subjecting her to that. Her response? "Actually, that was pretty nice." Even sent through the filter of my (extremely limited) singing ability, it was "pretty nice." Go figure.

The song doesn't make much sense, if any. But if this is nonsense, so be it. Dr. Dog's casual and mellow take on this chatty track is well worth a listen under a shady tree with an iced tea or strolling (strutting?) down a sun-speckled street.

Wolf Parade - Call It A Ritual
'Cause you know / They will swing swing their swords for show / While you turn your flower petals so slow

A bit ominous and a little heavy, this song sounds like something primitive and primal - something cult-related - is about to occur. The song picks up and drops off with a certain amount of tumbling and bravado, but lacks the normal wailing dissonance present with most songs fronted by Spencer Krug. He keeps his voice down for most of the song, choosing less over more... and in this case, less is definitely more.

The National - Apartment Song
Be still for a second while I try and try to pin your flowers on / Can you carry my drink I have everything else / I can tie my tie all by myself...

The National sort of wear their hearts on their sleeves - in a very manly way, of course. This song feels so familiar and casual - the first lines alone (quoted above), bring about distinct imagery of a couple who have been together for a long time. Much of The Boxer reflects on "lost youth," or growing up and moving on, and this song is no different. But it's a little more realistic, perhaps, than their other songs concerning the whittling away of time. It's self-reflective and more personal, than say "Mistaken For Strangers," a song concerning similar subject matter, but with a very different (read: sentimental) approach.

The Kills - What New York Used To Be
What music used to be / What luck used to be / What art used to be / What you used to be

When the song kicks off with thumping beats and impatient guitars, starting and restarting like engines, only to morph into a pulsing techno-infused rock song with the tongue-twisting, rapid fire, sexily whispered Coma comma drama come on / Draw it, scratch it, say it, say it... you know it's going to be intense... and good. But what do you expect from a band that makes a music video (for "Last Day of Magic") out of beating the bejesus out of each other (in Barcelona!)?

The Kills reflect a bit of Velvet Underground in what they do and how they do it, so it makes sense that they yearn for a NYC of yesteryear, Warhol et all. Whether or not the song should be taken literally is up to the listener, but surely, the band must feel a little sentimentality for the New York that was a prime influence for them - not just the place, but a specific time. Maybe this time without the massive amounts of heroin, huh?

Concertapalooza 2008

2008-05-11T17:37:00.003-04:00

It's nearly summer, which means concert and festival season is upon us. An embarrassment of riches abounds on the horizon for those with kickin' musical taste. Grab your sunscreen and a $4 bottle of water - here's the run-down of Southern New England shows that I find completely relevant.

Apparently, my cries were heard. While in Valencia, doing a much-needed wash (crispy jeans = overdue laundry), I checked my e-mail and read that Josh Ritter is playing with the Boston Pops. I think I may have made a gleeful noise drowned out only by the noise of a thumping drier. In fact, I can almost guarantee that I did. I jammed a few more coins into the internet-controlling box (yeah, you come up with a name for it) and snagged myself a couple of orchestra seats. June 27th: it's going to be, in the words of Roberto, EPIC.

Devotchka is playing the Paradise on the 18th, but that being a Sunday, I find it hard to drag my ass up to Boston Sunday evening, only to drag it back even later that night, so I can drag it back at ass o'clock the next morning to go to work. Tough call...

The Fratellis are playing the Paradise later - on June 11th, followed by Wolf Parade on August 2nd. The Fratellis would no doubt be a fun time, and a little rockin' dissonance with WP is sure to be memorable... for someone else... because it's already sold out. Boo.

The Newport Folk Festival has a generous handful noteworthy names (Calexico, She & Him [aka Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward], Jim James, Jakob Dylan, etc.) - unfortunately, the two I'm dying to see (Calexico and She & Him) are playing on different days and tickets are $70 per day... yowsers. And it is the Newport Folk Festival... which translates to a whooole lot of hippies and yuppies... hippies and yuppies with money. I'm not sure I can handle that.

The National is playing June 13th with R.E.M. (aka mad money for tickets). While I'm sure it's a show that's worthy the money, it doesn't necessarily translate to my money. I'm sure they'll swing around again for a club show come fall/winter.

My Morning Jacket and Ryan Adams are playing the Bank o' America Pavilion back to back - September 6th and 7th, respectively. While Ryan puts on a good (and surreal and balls-out insane) show, my faith is a little shaken considering his latest contributions to the musical world. He's on musical probation.

If you're wondering who's playing in your neck of the woods, but don't feel like hitting up different venue websites or ticketmaster (ew), then check out JamBase. Create a basic profile, add your favorite artists and bam - you're done. E-mails are sent within a day or less after shows are announced.

For no other reason than self-indulgence, here's Calexico, doing what they do best.

In other news, Scarlett Johansson released her first single, "Falling Down," from her upcoming album Anywhere I Lay My Head, a collection of Tom Waits covers. I'm not sure whether I wanted to love or hate this, but I'm not a big Waits fan, so it removes "purism" from the issue. She does a decent job with this - the production is rather intrusive, but I think ScarJo's voice is suited for rock - she doesn't have perfect pitch or slick/smooth vocal styling, but her voice does have a smoky brashness that fits the music pretty well. It's growing on me. The video is nothing spectacular (I'm not even sure if it's the official one or not), but... yeah. (Please note the "Whacky Waving Inflatable Arm Flailing Tube Man" for no apparent reason.) Enjoy...?

"I'm going to a town that has already been burned down..."

2008-05-08T09:33:00.000-04:00

Back from Europe and no worse for wear. Better for it, actually. And rather than cram a two week stint into one blog post, I'll divvy it up into city-sized chunks to be digested over a number of days.

Florence: the first - and best - stop. It felt like home. So yes - it was good to be back - but it was even better to see Eryn and Alex after a drought of nearly three years - THREE! That's not to say it wasn't good to see Rachel, but we knew we'd have over two weeks to rekindle our bond... and we sure did.

I think I was able to do everything I'd really wanted to do... I didn't go to a lot of new places (other than restaurants), but I was able to revisit the Florence I knew, which is what I needed. Fiddler's Elbow, Art Bar, the Mercato, SACI, and of course, Sad Gelato Man (best and most-anticipated reunion/picture ever!) Just the first lunch date with Eryn and A-Town would have made that trip worth it. "You're a gum-splitter, too??" It felt so right, so natural... can we have lunches like that once a week, please?

Thanks.

There was a grand dinner at il Latini, where we met all the parental units and plowed our way through probably six or seven glorious courses. It consisted of a nearly-pornographic amount of prosciutto, as well as amazing pasta and meat dishes, and wine for the sipping (swilling?) I don't think I've ever indulged (read: gorged) myself on so much food in my life. The delightful pain of it all, rolling Rachel and myself back to the doors of Hotel Tina!

The wedding - the Big A, as it were - was lovely. The couple looked so beautiful/handsome - so fresh and young... dare I say... "glowing?" Siiigh. The marriage ceremony was short, simple and civil - my type of ceremony. Still, tears flowed like a river of doves from the beard of Zeus. The two of them were so delightfully themselves. Eryn was not a "Bridezilla," in spite of her painful heels, which she wore like a champ, and A-Town cracked jokes and was as much himself as at any other time. Two people who belong together, just getting married alongside friends and family and enjoying the day... joined by the bonds of love. And you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds, and you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords... name that movie! I wanted to quote it the entire day, but I refrained.

The post-wedding dinner - oh the dinner! Served at La Terrazza del Principe on the other side of the Arno, up in the Tuscan hills past Boboli Garden, I had, what was probably the best meal of my life. A-Town and I couldn't get over the eggplant rigatoni... The dish could have been crafted by Michelangelo himself, it was so magnificent. Eryn, you get an extra bazillion awesome points for tracking down that place. Rachel and I parted with our beloved fellow-Bufas on hilltop, rather unceremoniously, but in the words of Helen, "whatever"... I shall see them again. Hopefully, relatively soon. None of this three years crap...

I'll eventually attach more pictures to this post - specifically some from the day of the Big A, when I get my act together.

Oh. Man.

2008-04-18T14:09:00.001-04:00

Ok, so one more post before I go because I just found this out via Andrew Bird's e-mail info list thingamajig.

The Mile High Music Fesitival.

It pretty much sounds like a bunch of my favorite musicians just said, "hey - let's play this festival on Alec's b-day... ya know... cause we rock." Unfortunately, it looks like they forgot where I live because it's inconveniently two time zones and a couple thousand miles away in Denver. Blargh.

It has Josh Ritter and Andrew Bird (who are also doing some West Coast shows together - um, again - wrong locale, guys), as well as Spoon, Jason Mraz (who is freaking AMAZING live in spite of his really awful last album), Citizen Cope, Lupe Fiasco, and Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers... I mean com'on!! What does Denver have that the Southern New England area doesn't? Apart from mountains and fresh air? We have fewer hippies! I think most would say that's a perk! So how about we just move that puppy up to the Northeast, huh? Nudge it... a little nudgie nudge... nudge.

Sigh. To pacify my sullen disbelief that such a fest could be thrown so far out of reach (what's up with the lack of New England festivals, man?), here's an amazing and heart-breaking cover of Tom Petty's "Walls" by JR and his band.

One for the road.

2008-04-17T16:27:00.002-04:00

Very soon - a mere three days, in fact - I'm off for Italia for the event of the millennium. To the land of gelato and the sad man that serves it. The land of Bufa Five, the Schlomo, pozzi motorini, and victorious over-priced sodas at the top of Piazzale (maybe this time we'll go with some vino rosso and stories about Cha Cha, instead.)

Italy just had their elections, and reelected, with shoulders shrugged indifferently, the same man who was in charge when we were there in 2004... It'll be like nothing ever changed! Except now Italians are even more downtrodden. But then we're off to Spain - the unknown... in many respects, seeing as how my Spanish is limited to "olà!" and "olé!"

But because Rachel arrives in just a few hours and I've got work tomorrow and laundry and packing and grabbing a new closure for my earring (dang!) and about 408 other things before I go, I decided to do one last post now - and guess what it's about? Music! Big surprise, but this time, there's a slightly cohesive theme: they're songs that I associate with travel, moving, motion or "picking up the pieces," per se.

Pete Yorn - Crystal Village
Take my hand, come with me / Into this crystal scenery

Pete Yorn singin' about life and love and all that junk in the context of what is, simply put, a very pretty song.

Ryan Adams - To Be Young (Is To Be Sad, Is To Be High)
Oh, one day when you’re looking back / You were young and, man, you were sad / When you’re young, you get sad / When you're young you get sad, then you get high

Rockin' and yet unmistakably country (the real kind, not the Toby Keith kind). This song just speaks to being young and stupid and all over the map, but most importantly, being young and alive. This is the song I hope Rachel and I will be singing after a trip to the Fiddler's Elbow. I'm sure that our version would merely stand in the shadow of this one by Ryan.

LEGEN - wait for it! - DARY!

To get technical, though, the perfect Ryan Adams song for brawlin' would be "Shakedown on 9th Street" - definitely fit for Guinness and fights!

Wolf Parade - I'll Believe In Anything
And I could give you my apologies / By handing over my neologies / And I could take away the shaking knees / And I could give you all the olive trees / Oh look at the trees and look at my face / And look at a place far away from here

If you can make it through the slight bit of dissonance and thumping in the beginning of the song (I'm a fan of well-placed dissonance - Damien Rice does it well), it's a very exciting and emotional song - it sort of sweeps you away without you even realizing it. I know that Wolf Parade is not for everyone, and the Spencer Krug-fronted WP tracks are for even fewer... but apparently, this song is for me, as it's the most played song on my iTunes. I love the complex feelings the song presents - a sort of passionate nihilism... if there is such a thing.

(If you're further interested in Wolf Parade, check out their new song, "Call It A Ritual" on Stereogum. It's so tight - which is strange considering WP's style - but it's still very Wolf Parade. Mi piace.)

Doves - Pounding
Let's leave at sunrise / Let's live by the ocean / I don't mind / If we never come home at all

What a song. My second most played track on iTunes and the first song I ever bought from the iTunes music store... because it's amazing. Seriously romantic. But with both an upper-case and a lower-case "R." The Doves aren't exactly known for their amazing lyrics - they're just sort of a few brash boys from Manchester, but when the lead singer says Seize the time / Cause it's now or never baby, you're right there with him.

Beirut - Postcards From Italy
The times we had / Oh, when the wind would blow with rain and snow / Were not all bad / We put our feet just where they had, had to go

The title alone makes this song an obvious choice, but I also love it because it's very classic and sentimental (but a good sentimental!), very European, and very well-produced. Who ever would have guessed the guy who wrote and sang the whole shebang was just 19 at the time? Even though the song contains no lyrics really resembling my time in Italy, I still associate the two - that rusty, sepia-toned vision.

Yann Tiersen - J'y Suis Jamais Allé

Literally translated as "I Never Went There," this piece from the Amélie soundtrack (along with several others), never fails to let my mind drift... drift off somewhere nice... somewhere where they drink wine with every meal and don't pasteurize the cheese, cause damn it - sometimes you just don't need to.

To the land of unpasteurized cheeses!!

Motion + Picture

2008-04-13T11:54:00.001-04:00

I was about to bust out some scones to nibble on for the rest of the week (or next 2 hours), but before I do, I had to post this - yes! I was compelled... by the power of aesthetics!

It's a movie trailer for a film called The Fall. And will probably be in tiny indie theaters for 2 weeks before disappearing, so keep your eyes peeled. It's one of those movies where the director has such an amazing and articulate vision, it would seem impossible to create a film like it... but it looks like they actually pulled it off. It looks absolutely stunning.

Anatomy of a Mix, Part Trois: Like a "Ménage," But Less Scandalous

2008-04-11T21:49:00.001-04:00

Topics for this week's selections include: apocalypse, resignation from the banal to the extraordinary unknown, and long lost love found and kept.

Andrew Bird - Tables and Chairs
And did you, did you see how all our friends were there / And they're drinking roses from the can?

If you're going to write a song about friendship and a manmade apocalypse, you might as well write a song like this one. This is a favorite of mine from Andrew Bird's amazing, complex, and all-around pretty freaking awesome album, Andrew Bird and The Mysterious Production of Eggs. "Tables and Chairs" starts of slowly, rather inconspicuously, and then picks up quickly, plucking along and creating a little beautiful anarchy as it goes. Classic Birdman.

Calexico - Sunken Waltz
Take the story of carpenter Mike / Dropped his tools and his keys and left/ And headed out as far as he could / Through the cities and gated neighborhoods

While it may be naive, I have a strong sentimental feelings for the West. Even though it's been a long time since I've visited there, I remember the colors and the air. I think I'm enamored with Georgia O'Keefe's West... but, it seems, Calexico is as well. It's an anthem against (sub)urban sprawl in America's last bastion of clear night skies and open space. The last verse really clinches it for me - Thoreau meets the West with a bit of surreality.

Nina Simone - Just in Time
Now I know just where I'm going / No more doubt of fear / I've found my way click click click click heels!

There are probably better or more exciting Nina Simone songs, but this live recording from 1968 shows off some of her playful but precise piano skills and casual but emotional vocal stylings... it's a really great recording all around. Nina Simone freaking rocked.

The song and the topic of Nina Simone were featured heavily in the final scene of Before Sunset (spoiler alert for the clip), and helped propel the film into the realm of something really memorable - such a good ending! And it totally solidified my girl crush on Julie Delpy - she's just so frickin' cute!

Anyway, as for Ms. Simon, there was always a little joy in her sorrow, a little sorrow in her joy, and always a reason to sing.

Good night.

Potpourri without the pesky perfume.

2008-04-08T15:30:00.003-04:00

Some time ago I said that I was going to try to be more more email-esque in my postings. But it's hard. My life is generally pretty dull and that makes spicing things up more difficult than it should be. But, like Amélie, I'll try to jazz up the banal, but without an adorable bob.

Essentially, at this point, all I am thinking about is Europe. The days are dwindling down and there is still a good amount to do. It's been a while since I've been so goal-oriented: thinking of things to do before I go, what to bring, what I'm going to see, what I should see, how insanely broke I'll be at the end of it, et cetera, et cetera... I imagine this is what a pregnant woman feels like, except instead of changing diapers, you're cheesing in front of national monuments and eating your weight in gelato. Also, there are no stretch marks where I am going... except for gelato-related stretch marks.

Today is opening day at Fenway Park and I'm 4 blocks from the Stadium. The game starts at 2:15, which means I'm probably going to be heading home the same time as thousands of insane Bostonians with Sox hats yelling something about "Manny being Manny."

Thus begins the never-ending baseball season.

As for other things, I cooked some more this weekend. Parmesan mashed potatoes and chicken baked with white wine, leeks and pancetta... at least pancetta was the plan. I had to substitute smoked bacon in its place, which would have been ok, had I expected the major change in cooking time. Another lesson learned: a little fresh rosemary goes a LONG way. The chicken was alright, but the leeks were goners. On the plus side, the potatoes came out really well and the brownies I threw together with the help of Mr. Jamie Oliver were frickin' awesome. Here's the recipe (I did without the dried cherries and walnuts, but it's extra fantastic with a little whipped cream.)

Fifteen Chocolate Brownies

Ingredients:

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
7 oz dark chocolate, 70% cocoa solids, broken up
Optional: 2 1/2 oz dried sour cherries
Optional: 1 1/3 oz chopped nuts
3/4 cup cocoa powder, sifted
1/2 cup all-purpose flour, sifted
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 3/4 cup superfine sugar
4 large free-range eggs

Optional: zest of 1 orange
Optional: 9fl oz crème fraiche

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350ºF. Line a 12 inch rectangular baking tin with parchment paper. In a large bowl over some simmering water, melt the butter & chocolate & mix until smooth. Add the cherries & nuts (if using) & stir together. In a separate bowl, mix together the cocoa, flour, baking powder & sugar, then add this to the chocolate & stir well together. Beat the eggs & mix in until you have a silky consistency.

Pour your mixture into the tray & place in the oven for around 25 minutes. Don’t overcook them, the skewer should not come out clean. The brownies should be slightly springy on the outside but still gooey in the middle. Allow to cool in the tray then transfer to a large chopping board & cut into chunky squares. Serve with a dollop of crème fraîche mixed with orange zest or eat them as they are.

Sound awesome? It is. I was tempted to just eat the batter, but chose the conventional slightly more cooked version over the version requiring a spoon and complete lack of shame.

A bit of infrastructure business: I'm thinking of changing the blog name. It seems like a bit of a misnomer, seeing as how it's been some time since I've really done any art... and also, this blog doesn't really paint much of a portrait, either. I'm hoping that I'll be struck with inspiration for more art, a new blog name, or a more vivid autobiographical approach when I head abroad in twelve days. Holy crap.

Twelve days.

These ain't no Sunday funnies.

2008-04-07T15:07:00.005-04:00

Today has not been an amazing day. But rather than yadda yadda yadda about the bad and the drab and the... whatever... I figured I'd share my favorite webcomics, instead. I'm definitely not a webcomic nerd, but I just have a few favorites that were recommended to me by the bro, or stumbled upon in a fit of internet nomadism.

A Lesson Is Learned But The Damage Is Irreversible

This is a great comic that went "on hiatus" quite some time ago (and I doubt will ever return), but like a desert jackrabbit, it had a strong and lean run while it lasted. The creators of the comic were Dale Beran, a philosophy major and David Hellman, an art major. The comic pushes boundaries in terms of content, style, and (literally) in terms of layout. The content and story themes are surreal and don't always (and aren't always supposed to), make sense. The artistic style is generally reminiscent of a relief or block print - chunky and bold; I love it and it acted as something of an inspirational source when I took relief printing in college. Yay art!

David Hellman's been working on a video game and you can check the progress of it via his blog.

Some of my favorites: "Now We Are Poor Again," "The Giants Stole My Rhythm," Can You Come and Dig Me Up?," "Christmas Disaster Special" and "Morning, Sleepy Head!"

Perfect Stars

This comic approaches sex, drugs, and 19th century literature with bold colors, curly queues and apathy... oh, to be young! It's not for everyone (it helps to like Oscar Wilde... a lot), but damn, is it ever pretty.

Favorites: "Oh Henry That Sounds So Boring" (I love the "laaaame!"), "Check You Out," and "Guess What's Boring."

The Secret Crocodile Adventure Club

A surreal comic involving various characters - 99% of which are crocodiles. It's a weird one... and I mean really weird... But sometimes really awesome... even if the jerk didn't take my sweetass guest comic.

Faves: "Erotic Bakery Etiquette," "Mohammed and Jesus," and "Cloud Wizard" (because I think that "hatitude" should enter the English vernacular.)

Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal

Other than ALILBTDII, this is the comic that I've been following the longest. It's also the most consistent in style, content and level of amusement. The comic usual involves a misleading picture/caption combination that's usually absurd and inappropriate. What can I say? It gets me to laugh...

There have been so many posts from this guy, it's hard to say which are my favorites... here are some random highlights: Abraham vs AbrahaN, "Vatican's Income," "Women for Peace," and "'You'll Never See These Again.'"

A Simple Apology

A pretty new comic that I stumbled upon via SCAC, I believe. It's simple and goofy - I like it.

Favorites: Poor Fish and "Sleeping Rules."

Dinosaur Comics

I'm not super crazy about this one - though I haven't followed it for very long. I will say this, however, it's kind of ground-breaking. The guy has used the exact same panels for over 1100 cartoons - he changes only the dialog. Weird, huh? And kind of awesome... in a visually boring kind of way.

Finalemente or: Worth The Wait.

2008-04-03T13:54:00.000-04:00

Blondfire (FKA Astaire), my favorite Brazilian/ German/ America brother/sister musical duo, has finally released their first LP My Someday. I first heard their intoxicating sound four years ago, when "L-L-Love" was the free song of the week on iTunes. It was a beautifully sexy pop slap in the face! Following that, I got the Don't Whisper Lies EP and their Live acoustic EP.

Stylistically, My Someday is along the lines of the Don't Whisper Lies EP - slick and sweet - but not too slick and sweet. There's a good balance of pop and rock, pep and sadness. It's music by the young and for the young, but it feels like the Driscolls are old hands at the game. There is a hefty 80's influence throughout, but don't be scared - the synth won't hurt you. The lyrics are relatively simple and, at times, quite fun, but when translated into Erica's sweet falsetto (we're totally on a first name basis - for real), they take on more poetic weight and a sort of dream-like quality.

Some highlights from album are "Always the Last To Know" (so smooth!), "Into the Sea" (so fun!), "Lovesick" (so sassy!), and "All In My Mind" (so... sad?) And just so you know, the Mary Poppins song (as in "practically perfect in every way"), "L-L-Love" is also on the album.

If you're a fan of the Cardigans or Feist, you should definitely give Blondfire a listen. These crazy kids created the whole album almost entirely on their own (self-produced and whatnot), so... good on 'em! I think they're headed off to big things.

Rock on, young Driscolls. Rock on.

Blondfire - Into the Sea

"That's all gab disemboweling."

2008-04-02T15:44:00.001-04:00

Up until Friday evening, my kitchen had been disemboweled... for three weeks. It was in various stages of undress/uselessness (no oven for three weeks, no sink and dishwasher for much of it.) It was annoying and borderline stressful (I like cooking... and not having to rinse my cup out in the bathroom sink.) It began with replacing a dishwasher which didn't need replacing and elevated (spiraled?) into a full-on remodeling project.

My dad was replacing the built-in dishwasher and found a flaw in the shelf. While trying to peel up the corner of Formica counter, a jagged piece of vivid orange history came off.

Thus began the Epic Re-tiling of 2008 (aka ERT 08).

It was a long and arduous process (in which I was only fleetingly involved), and the kitchen is much brighter now. And the oven is back in place! To celebrate, I went a bit nuts with cooking and baking on Sunday. I wanted to try out some recipes from the new Jamie Oliver cookbook I got a few weeks ago, so I cooked up a storm. I started off by making some banana bread, then angel food cake and strawberry sauce. For dinner, I made baked panco-encrusted rainbow trout, beet root salad, and rice. I really love to cook, but can get stressed out when I do... though I can bake for hours without any real stress... how very odd. Anyway, it got a little worse when my parents called to say they were going to be 15 minutes later than they thought, as with fish, 15 minutes is sort of a big deal.

But, there wasn't much need to worry, as it came out really well if I do say so myself. My mom was the only one who really liked the beet root salad, but I'm glad I tried it - definitely satisfied my curiosity. In any case, it was quite pretty. Yay aesthetics.

Next I want to try something with leeks. And pancetta. Bring on the delicious challenge!

Anatomy of a Mix: Part Due

2008-03-28T15:35:00.002-04:00

Continuing with music that means something to me, I've got another segment of music for you. Today, I've got two "feel good" tracks and one brutal piece of bitter brilliance.

Ryan Adams & The Cardinals - Beautiful Sorta
When I say L-U-V, you better believe me L-U-V!
Ryan Adams is very good at being a sad bastard - he even had a solo acoustic tour by the same name. So, it's all the more rare when he does a song where you actually feel really good after listening to it - "Beautiful Sorta" is one of them. It's one of my favorite tracks from Cold Roses - what might be my favorite album of all time - it's at least my favorite RA album. (Perhaps also noteworthy: it's also the first album I ever got on vinyl.)

It's hard to say why I like this song so much. It feels like it was thrown together in a few blissful and reckless minutes and instantly became a gem for future generations. One day, I'll drag my kids over to the record player and say, "this is where Ryan Adams peaked! You hear the free-wheeling guitar? That's how music is supposed to sound!" It's a great jam that makes me think of summer, and being young and stupid.

Rufus Wainwright - Dinner at Eight
Then I know it had to be long ago / Actually in the drifting white snow / You loved me
Martha Wainwright has "Bloody Motherfucking Asshole" as her therapeutic song about her father and apparent douchebag, musician Loudon Wainwright. "Dinner at Eight" is Rufus's. While "BMFA" reflects a whole lot of anger and confusion, Rufus's is a simple and sad lament of something lost. Just like his sister's, his voice is something of an acquired taste, but this song brings out so much of its strength and character, it borders on perfection. I admit - I sing along with this song with little to no abandon. It's a great song to which you can sip red wine and reflect on life and love and loss.

The Velvet Underground - Sweet Jane
Ya know, those were different times / All the poets they studied rules of verse / And those ladies, they rolled their eyes

I fell in love with The Velvet Underground in the summer, and this song is a sunny afternoon in the car with the windows down. Lou Reed tells it like it is... only so much better. He sounds tough, but he's just singing about life and love like nobody else can - so informal and casual (I love the "huh!" and clap), but he rallies so much passion. "But anyone who ever had a heart / They wouldn't turn around and break it..." Makes me wish I was in NYC in the 1960's... but without the heroin. And the Warhol.

At least I won't have to worry about scurvy.

2008-03-27T15:00:00.001-04:00

I fell head-first into a cold sometime around Tuesday afternoon. A rogue train collision further down the Providence line stopped my commute home Tuesday evening, dragging out into Tuesday night. I got home over four hours after I'd left work. Uncool, MBTA. Uncool. I took yesterday and today off in spite of my dwindling sick time, because man... I'm sick. I've been zincing it up and vitamin Cing it up, so let's just assume that I'm on the mend...

So that's where I stand now... or sit, rather, because I'm stuffy and easily confused by a change in perspective.

But in other news, I got a dress for the Big A, finalemente. It's a sassy little number, but it could never out-sass the bride.

I also finally saw No Country for Old Men. Oh boy. It's beautifully shot and very well-acted -- Javier Bardem may have gotten the little golden statue (and for good reason - he is creeptastic), but Josh Brolin was a treat. Very real, very subtle and very capable. I'm still sifting through, trying to decide whether I liked it or not. I did like it, but not in the traditional sense. I will say this: it's a movie that doesn't care whether you like it or not - it has its own agenda.

I also watched Michael Clayton, which I had bought on DVD in good faith. It was good - pretty much everything I thought it would be, so I'm not sure why I walked away slightly disappointed. It's a good legal thriller/drama, I just need to remember that I don't really like legal thrillers/dramas.

Musically speaking, Andrew Bird has a blog on the NY Times website. It's mostly about his song-writing, as he's prepping for a new album (editor's note: sweetness!) He's got an interesting approach to writing, song-writing, what have you... I feel like if you could just tip him to one side that cuckoo clocks, a broken banjo, antique medicine bottles, a child-sized bow and arrow set circa 1910, a bushel of apples, a set of "collectible" ceramic angels, and various gears and springs would just tumble out of his head. A patch-work quilt kind of man.

In other news, Ryan Adams (who is now maybe going by his full name of David Ryan Adams...?) continues to be absolutely insane and is now proving it to the masses on a daily basis via blog. Maybe I should read up on it now while my mind struggles with the concept of opening my generic ibuprofen bottle... it might make more sense that way.

I get by.

2008-03-25T14:30:00.001-04:00

A while ago I was talking with Mama B... about this and that. Then the topic of Little Erin came up and I said (like you do when you're talking about Little Erin), "she's just so cute..." And my mom replied, "she is cute... actually, all of your friends are really cute. You have really lovely friends."

And it hit me (as it sometimes does), that I do. I have great friends. They're fun and smart and cultured and weird - and I know that, while diverse in interests and backgrounds, if they all got together, they'd all get along really well. They're people that I want to know for the rest of my life - and you can't say that about many people. I want to be able to call up PL when I'm 73 and pop over to her house (villa?) and make supremely awesome cookies. Then we'd get mildly annoyed but end up laughing when we realize that A-Town drank all the milk. "Oh, A-Town - you and your Mukki!

Or I could give One Eye and Berto a ring and say, "Coffee?" And they'd both say, "meh..." And then I'd say "Whiskey?" And they'd both say, "Heck yes." (Who could say no?)

Or give Rachel two day's notice and say, "you wanna retrace our Irish steps?" And she would pull the deer-in-headlights face and hold up an already-packed bag.

I could go on...

But this is why teleportation not only has to be invented within the next 30 years, but also become available for personal use. Or else, we can all just move to a giant commune. Take your pick, people - it's one or the other!

But anyway. Good people. I know good people.

Erin and Emily with Erich
Pirate Eye is contagious.

P-FUNK!
One of my favorite photos of anyone. Ever.

Rachel & Mika
BFF.

Courtney & Emily
"Would you like to share my beard?"
(P.S. I wish I had the Maura mugshot.)

A-Town and Eryn
I'm a twin of both of these people... and they're getting married... is that weird?

Rob
In a whaling ship. Obviously.

Eryn, me, & Rachel
Oh, sweet Helen of SACI, I love this picture.

P-Funk, Emily and Abby get in a scuffle.
Showing that even the best of friends can have disagreements.

The Anatomy of a Mix: Part I

2008-03-21T21:00:00.004-04:00

A while ago, I was driving around with Mama B, listening to whatever mix CD was in the player, and she just busts out with "you know - you've always had a very musical memory. I remember when I had to bring you in for an interview before you started kindergarten and when Mrs. Marcott asked if there was something special she should know about you, I told her, 'well, Alec has a musical memory.' And she said that was very surprising, especially for someone your age. And I said, 'well... yeah!'"

Oh, mom. Tragically, I have no musical talent, but could sooner function without music than I could sans air... well, maybe not air - but, as Nietzsche said, "without music, life would be a mistake."

You tell 'em, Fred.

I'll [temporarily] post a few songs that somehow changed me or what I thought about music... you know - songs that have that little bit something extra. It's like an iTunes celebrity playlist... but without the pesky celebrity.

Josh Ritter - Best for the Best | Now I listen to my sweetheart, and I listen to my thirst / I don't spend time listening to other people's words / Sometimes they're right, most times the reverse / They say the best is for the best when the best's for the worse

In the introduction to the only live version of this song that I've heard, JR says, "this song is dedicated to Mark Twain, who said 'loyalty to your country always, loyalty to your government when it deserves it.'" It gives more context to the song, but I still feel the same about it - it still feels remarkably personal.

After seeing JR live last December at the tiny Songs For A Friend show, I got on the train and while it still sitting in South Station, I turned on my iPod and this song came up; inexplicably, tears started to roll down my cheeks - not out of sadness, but something else. He hadn't sung the song at the show, but for some reason, its beautiful simplicity just struck me all the more.

JR's music as a whole, means a lot to me - sometimes I have trouble wrapping my head around it it's just so... good. But this particular song means something more... it reaches down so far you can almost feel it. I could go on and on about this song, but there's an undefinable quality to it that is probably best left alone. But bottom line is that I find it to be extraordinarily comforting - listen to it on a set of good headphones in a quiet room and maybe you'll see what I mean.

Bob Dylan - Like A Rolling Stone | When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose / You're invisible now - you got no secrets to conceal

I can't say that I'm crazy about Bob, though he's been steadily growing on me the past few years. This song, however, is just so chock full of everything a good folk song should be - cross that - everything a good song should be - that you can't deny its excellence.

This song is just Bob. Bob freaking Dylan, man. And he's telling you that you screwed up - you did. Big time, too. And he's asking - demanding of you - how does it feel? But maybe there's something in that fall from grace... maybe you've got something going for you - something that you never had before.

I usually turn this song on when I'm cooking or doing something menial that I want to forget joyously. I open the windows, turn it up, and sing the whole time.

M. Ward - To Go Home | God, it's great to be alive / Takes the skin right off my hide / To think I'll have to give it all up someday

M. Ward's got that crazy voice... that crazy 12-packs-a-day voice that never bottoms out and never gets louder than it needs to... unlike Daniel Johnston, the writer of this song.

But it just goes to show - take a good song, give it to M. Ward and he'll make it great. He did it with Alejandro Escovedo's "Way It Goes," and he did it here. The musical arrangement behind this track is so joyous and so lusty and powerful, it barely hangs on to itself. It's a song of contradictions, but it's carefully balanced. And like a carousel that keeps going faster and faster, it's jarring, but exciting... and you're sad when it's over.

A little tornado

2008-03-21T16:27:00.003-04:00

This past Tuesday was chock full of major music releases, several of which I was looking forward to. Through legit, unnamed sources, I got the She & Him album a couple weeks ago, but haven't actually gotten around to it that much because I was too busy with the Doves Some Cities, The National's The Boxer, and the recently released in the US In The Dark: Live at Vicar Street album/DVD... I mean, it's JR. In Dublin. Singing "Best for the Best." What's a girl supposed to do? I even had to remove the intro to "Kathleen" from my "Current Tracks" iPod playlist because it makes me laugh... out loud... regardless of location or social situation.

But I digress.

I iTunes'd it up and bought The Kills' Midnight Boom a day before getting Devotchka's A Mad and Faithful Telling... which I sort of regret, because now I can't stop listening to The Kills. It's just so good! The lyrics aren't exactly amazing - mostly nonsensical or neo-neo-punk-based - but the entire album is catchy and simple, different and new, sleek and electronic... but not without some good ol' fashioned riffs and roaring guitar.

They just released (free on iTunes for the week) "Cheap and Cheerful" as the second single. Upon first listen, I really didn't like it, but it has since grown on me (still working on liking the video, however...) As for the rest of the album, the only song I can definitely live without is "Alphabet Pony" (we get it... "easy alphabet pony..." alright already.) But "Hook and Line," "Tape Song," "Last Day of Magic," and the tragically short but nonetheless awesome "M.E.X.I.C.O.C.U." are great examples of The Kills being... The Kills... still loud and proud, just a more evolved version of themselves. Bravo to them.

I wish that I could catch their Boston show at the end of April, but I will be in Spain at the time, eating tapas and drinking something surely delicious and intoxicating. Next time aound.

The Kills - Last Day of Magic

Where the green is optional but the beer mandatory, AKA good craic.

2008-03-17T20:30:00.003-04:00

This weekend was spent as St Patrick's weekend should be spent (should the opportunity arise): in Boston with friends. Saturday afternoon, I zipped into Bostonia on the Amtrak (I couldn't bear to take the commuter rail on a day off), met up with Rob for a coffee at Diesel in Davis Square... though it would be wrong to call it simply "a coffee." It's called the Accelerator - essentially a caffe latte with the perfect amount of vanilla and almond, creating a flavor similar to that of toasted marshmallows. It would also be an injustice to call it anything less than "hot magic" (a term I usually reserve strictly for PL.)

Anyway, Rob and I parted ways, and I caught up with Emily (One Eye), my favorite drinking buddy (my newest nickname for her is "the walking id.") We snagged a dinner of fried appetizers at a nice neighborhood place just a few blocks away from her apartment. We hadn't even finished our RI-Style calamari when Little Erin gave a ring and we agreed to meet at Bukowki's Tavern, a mellow beer-centric bar, perfect for practical scenesters who prefer their beverages with their normal coloration, even on the most emerald of holidays. One Eye and I beat Erin and Erich (her bf), to Bukowski's, so we took our time ordering. I got a beer - and actually enjoyed it - but stuck with Belgian whites, since it's strong hops that make me cringe as though I'm about to receive a smack in the face from Charlie Mopps himself.

Erin and Erich arrived and we caught up on the subject of... everything. I hadn't seen Erin since the JR show back in October, so there was definitely some catching up to be done. There's that moment of "AHHH!HOWAREYOU??" followed by "so... what do we talk about?" but that hiccup is drowned out by fart jokes and physical comedy...

It's almost as though no time has passed.

I'm lucky in that while I have sort of distinctive "clusters" of friends (college friends/SACI friends) - they're very open. Though Emily had only met Erin once, they clicked. I love when that happens - though, it helps to know fantastically awesome people. Erich is also quite chill. He and Erin share similar musical tastes - along the lines of my own, but more broad and probably more chic. But it's great to compare notes and walk away with some musical tips in your change pocket (I knew that pocket had to be good for something.)

They called it a night rather early, so Emily and I took off for Central Square. We went to the Asgard. It was alright - nothing to write home about. Definitely a different atmosphere than the bubble of Bukowski's, so that was a little jarring. We one drink, one of us mentioned Bagel Bites, and in our infinite buzzed wisdom, immediately needed them, so we headed out. It should be noted that Emily earned her nickname of "One Eye" for more than one reason. She wore her aesthetic eye patch on the walk back to her apartment, and said walk took way longer than it should have, because I was half-collapsed in laughter the entire time. We eventually got back, inhaled nuclear Bagel Bites, and went to bed.

The next morning, we went out with Rob and Emily's roommate Christine for breakfast in Davis Square at a place called Johnny D's. There was a bit of a wait, but the jazz brunch was quality, even keeping in mind that we were all so hungry, we briefly contemplated divvying up the bottle of table ketchup while waiting. Post-brunch Emily and Christine headed off to the parade and I kept my streak going of never actually making it to the parade by going back to -suprise! - Diesel with Rob. I think the thing about Diesel is that their coffee is never bitter - it's pure espresso, but it never has that burnt taste. Maybe it's their blend or their ratio... whatever it is, it's freaking magic and I want it always and forever. And ever and ever.

And now it's time for "How I Met Your Mother," so I must say goodbye and adieu... and Happy St Patrick's Day.

You can't call me "Al."

2008-03-11T15:38:00.001-04:00

As a girl bearing what is pretty much universally recognized as a masculine name (despite whatever my dad attests to), I've dealt with some crap. Not necessarily as much as, say, a boy named "Sue" would run into, but a decent helping. Such as being stuck with male roommates in college - on two separate occasions. Not being on the list for girls' gym class - every year - and having to walk down to the main office to get the bureaucracy straightened out so that the lumbering symbol of irony - the overweight gym teacher - didn't have to. Inevitably, I'd end up getting stuck in something lame like badminton - before it was actually fun to play badminton (see: college). Being called every form of "Alexandra," as well as "Alice" and "Allie" (oh, how I hate "Allie"), though that is a pretty much a universal gripe for everyone with the name "Alec." I just happen to have the double whammy of a relatively uncommon name in combination with it being a masculine name.

So catching this article in the NY Times today was something of a relief - though the article focuses on the other side of the gender equation - guys with women's names. I've asked my parents many - MANY - times why they chose "Alec," and never really got a straight answer. My dad says it's partially because he knew "more than one" female Alec who was apparently kickass enough to name spawn after. I find this story to be rather dubious. My mom has said, "I wanted to name you 'Obi Wan Kenobi' but dad shot me down, so we went with 'Alec'... as in 'Alec Guinness.'" I am actually less skeptical about this story than I am the one concerning female Alecs roaming the southern New England area in the 70's.

What I've noticed over the years, perhaps surprisingly, is that guys are more likely to say my name properly on the first try, and to spell it correctly, as well. They rack up even more awesome points if they say something like "cool" after hearing my name (which happened just last week - thanks, Borders bookstore guy.) With women, I usually have the following conversation...

Random lady: Ok, what's your name?
Alec: It's Alec... A-L-E-C.
RL: Alex?
A: No - Alec. A-L-E-C.
RL: A-L-E-X?
A: With a "C."
RL: A-L-E-C-K?

I can't tell you how many times that exchange has taken place. Where did the "K" come from? Throwing it in for some flavor? It's not like it's an Eastern European name with Cyrillic characters or has silent letters just sitting, waiting to screw you up. It's four letters. It's the name of not only of classically trained, tragically deceased actor Sir Guinness, but of the best Baldwin, as well.

The best Baldwin!

The name has brought me some good luck - if the woman in housing at SACI hadn't stuck me with that random guy (oh, Soheil), I would have never ended up at the Buf, and probably wouldn't have made friends with Alex and Eryn and definitely wouldn't have made friends with Rachel since we didn't share any classes... it's weird to think how much would be different in my life if I was an "Emily" or a "Sara." I believe that everyone is shaped by their name, certainly - but mine has practically run my life at points - for better or for worse.

I have met a guy Alec before. He had a bit of an existential/gender crisis upon meeting me, but I'm sure he's fine since I explained that, no, his name is not a girl's name; my name is the boy's name. I've always wondered what would happen if I met another female Alec... we could swap stories and demented versions of our name... but then, having this name is sort of my thing. I kind of hate it... but it's mine...

There can only be one Highlander.

Music IS my aeroplane!

2008-03-08T19:54:00.002-05:00

If I were to try to describe how I've felt today, I really could just point out the window at the rainy and all-encompassing gray. That would pretty much sum it up.

But, like always, my music is there for me. I'd been teetering on buying Dove's Some Cities since it's release... in 2005. I bit the bullet a couple weeks ago and have slapped my forehead numerous times, wondering why - oh why - hadn't I bought it sooner, rather than merely surviving on the several singles I had? I've been a fan of Doves for years (though apparently not enough to buy what is arguably their best album to date), as they're the artist behind one of my favorite songs of all time: "Pounding." They blend electronic elements with a solid rock base. Some Cities is cohesive but not homogeneous. The title track immediately hooks you with a beat that compels your head to bounce from side to side. The rest of the album is really great, as well. Doves do the English rock thing with a bit of fire and light inside, which keeps it exciting and prevents it from becoming waterlogged and overly-moody - symptoms from which many English bands tragically suffer.

And due to a case of mistaken identity, I ended up falling for The National. A week or so ago I was talking to Rob about Arcade Fire and "what is the freaking big deal with them?" I had thought The National was under that same heading of Over-Appreciated, Mediocre Bands along with The Shins (who aren't terrible) and Sufjan Stevens (who is pretty terrible). I checked The National out on iTunes to see if I was right and I was, happily, not. I was covered in SHAME. And then musical goodness.

Upon first listening, there's a little bit of Interpol in there (specifically, "Mistaken For Strangers")... but then, it's gone. I bought one song from Boxer... and then another... and then completed the album. Anytime you have some sort of epiphany during the second listening of a song, you should probably just roll with it. That song was "Fake Empires." The piano and marching beat carries you away to a better euphonic place, and the lead singer's smooth but expressive baritone pulls you in - hard.

The serendipitous similarity between Doves and The National that I just now realized is that they both have songs that sort of put a metaphorical warm hand on your shoulder. A nice feeling for a rainy day.

Doves - Some Cities (Rich Costey's Remix)
The National - Fake Empires

Rhapsody in (grayish) blue.

2008-03-04T13:52:00.002-05:00

This morning was ridiculously nice; it was sunny and breezy and over 53 degreeees! (I drag out my E's when I am pleasantly surprised.) Oh, sunshine and reasonable temperatures, how I've missed you. The nice weather held out until I got to work (it's now cloudy and threatening rain), and it felt great. I felt great. I got my Vitamin D on... yeah - what up sunshine. I dawdled around Downtown for a while (the train usually gets me into the city with 45 minutes to take a 10 minute T ride) and splurged on an iced caramel macchiato, because it was just one of those mornings. You've got to roll with that good feeling.

Now, normally at das 'bucks, when they ask for my name, I tell them "Alex" because that's what they end up writing anyway... but in a moment of unguarded happiness, I gave the barista my real name to write on the cup - and he got it right! A million awesome points for him. I may hate my name, but I love when people get it right. They are the few. The proud. The people I like for their ability to hear and repeat two particular syllables. (Catchy, right?)

I feel lighter, in spirits and otherwise... which is a nice change from last night when I wanted to body-checked a rude, middle-aged woman who walked into me face-first while I was getting off the T. Which brings me to one of my biggest pet peeves: when people who want to get ON the T stand directly in doorway, thus preventing the people who want to get OFF the T from actually fulfilling their simple desire, thereby creating what is known in the scientific world as a "clusterfuck." It's like trying to take off your jacket while you're putting on your shirt. I wonder how people like that, who apparently don't know how doors work, haven't offed themselves by heedlessly sticking metal objects in their toasters or juggling blow-driers while they're soaking their feet in the tub, or some other Darwinian death. Those people are the same people who stop the moment they're off the escalator, especially if there are 87 people directly behind them. These people are not my favorite people. I doubt any of them would get my name right.

But I digress.

There is a notable, visceral change that people undergo when the weather improves - people get bolder, more social - which may account for the "ola, senorita" I got waiting for the T this morning. Sketchtastic. You can practically hear "Morning Mood" swelling while walking through the streets - people shake off that drab grayness that has clung to them for the past several months. And I know it's way too early to call it "spring," but it's hard not to look forward to the future - especially when the future has COLOR! And no more ice! Which means no more salt and sand! And none too soon - it looks like a beach exploded in Copley Square.

"Grab your shovels and pails, kids! We're going to Dartmouth Street!"

"We're going to show us just how great we are!"

2008-02-25T19:09:00.002-05:00

So the Oscars were last night. Nothing too new or exciting there. I watched about 15 minutes of it on and off... and then OFF. Award shows are so terrifically dull and pompous - I only like when these people are caught acting human (e.g. when Katherine Heigel practically lost it simply by presenting an award.) Having seen very little of the it, I'm now here to pass on my judgment concerning said award show that I did not actually watch (in a convenient bulleted format!)

• Javier Bardem won for Best Supporting Actor for his part in No Country for Old Men (which again, I did not see), but I'm sure he did an amazing job. And during his speech, he gave a shout-out to his mom - who he brought to the ceremony... That's so cute, I'm fighting the urge to go to the mall and create a Build-a-Bear to commemorate such cuteness. He's a tremendous actor, and a total stud to boot. Meet me in Valencia, Signor Bardem...

• I wanted to give the little French chick, Marion Cotillard, a high five because she was so genuinely excited when she won for Best Actress. And she wore a freaking mermaid dress... like, rock the f-on, mademoiselle!

• And Tilda Swinton kind of rocks at the other end of the spectrum. She's so bizarrely androgynous and bohemian and too-cool-for-school... and that's groovy. I can dig it. And she's allegedly friends with the Cloonster, so obviously she possesses a certain level of cool unattainable by mere mortals.

• I want to grab a blender and make margaritas with Jennifer Garner and Laura Linney. I love Laura Linney - she's a great actress and is always so "put together"... but she also looks like she'd be down for doing a few shots and sharking your ass at pool. And ever since I saw Jennifer Gardner on "Martha Stewart," I've kind of adored her, though I haven't seen any of her movies. She's refreshingly candid and self-depreciating, in spite of being a total biddy (new word for "hottie" - pass it on.)

• I would say "I hope I look as good as Helen Mirren when I'm her age," but in all honesty, I wish I was as hot as she is right now. Yes - that's right - at the age of 23, I wish I had the Helen Mirren biddy factor. What up.

• Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova won for Best Song for "Falling Slowly" from Once. "Yesssss" is all I have to say to that. And apparently, the sweetest moment of the evening was after Marketa was cut off by the "get your ass off the stage" music, Jon Stewart pulled her back up a few moments later and let her finish. Glen looked quite dapper and Marketa's just so freaking cute - I'm happy for them. Kick ass acoustic, man. This song always gives me goosebumps and last night's rendition of it is no exception. Here's the very moving performance along with a rather sweet intro from... Colin Farrell, of all people. Enjoy.

[Edit: so it seems that youtube yoinked the video. Boo to that. Anyway, here's the same song, directly from the film. Now you may enjoy.]

Bring forth the synth!

2008-02-24T20:04:00.002-05:00

This weekend was part bust, part sweetness. Yesterday, I went BW dress shopping (BW = Best Woman = Maid of Honor) with Mama B, and that... didn't work out so hot. Nordstroms is a lying little piece of chic poo. Online options abound - they have dresses out the wazoo. In-store is another story entirely. I found one or two fallbacks elsewhere, but nothing really sang to me. Next expedition means more branching out... to Garden City I say!

Last night I was all set to be bummed about being home alone on a Saturday night, but realized that some "A-Town time" is good. The house was cozy and quiet, and while I wish that I'd had more food options (we really need to go grocery shopping), it was a nice night. Good for unwinding, post-mall disappointment.

Over some coffee earlier today, I got caught up with Roz and Lorien - a couple of girls that I used to work with on Thayer. We talked about life and guys and music... I haven't laughed that much in a some time. In short, it was really good to seem them. It also served as a reminder that there actually is cool stuff and some cool people in RI... who woulda thunk. And frankly, I needed that reminder. We agreed that brunch should be sometime soon on the horizon... and who can argue with pancakes?

In the world of indie music freshness, Blondfire is allegedly almost ready to release their debut LP, My Someday. You may know their song "L-L-Love" - it was one of the most successful free singles of the week on iTunes. They're a couple of sexy siblings from New York by way of Michigan and Brazil or some such... and they're really good. Apparently, the album is almost entirely produced, mixed, and all that good stuff by the two of them. Both have solo projects and more, but I love the synergistic sound when they combine their mighty musical powers. There's definitely some 80's influence in there but they freshen it up. I seriously can't stop listening to "Always the Last to Know." Give it a listen and tell me it's not supa fly. I dare you.

Dorky movie mayhem abounds!

2008-02-22T12:02:00.000-05:00

So all the Juno hype that's been flying around is having a reverse effect on me - it's overwhelming to the point where I don't really want to see it. I previously had, but now I don't. What a shame. I guess I'll just until the DVD comes out and try to appreciate it then. For now, I'll just put my hands over my ears and say, "lalalalala! I'm not listening!" because it seems to work for 8 year-olds.

I've also missed most of the (apparently) good dramas that have come out: Michael Clayton, There Will Be Blood, Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, I'm Not There, and a few others. Now several of them are out on DVD, so that's cool, but I still haven't seen No Country For Old Men... because apparently, no one I know wants to see incredible amounts of violence as executed by Javier Bardem with a mop top hairdo. But I ask, why not?

The new crop of movies that I want to see are somewhat less serious. I've been hoping to see In Bruges with that gorgeous man whore, Colin Farrell. He actually maintains his smartass, Lucky Charms-ish Irish accent in this role, adding to the charm of what already looks like a fun movie. There's also Charlie Bartlett, with the really talented, rather disturbing kid from a "dead hookers!" episode of "Criminal Minds," and Robert Downey Jr., who I like in spite of myself. (P.S. I shamefully admit that I kind of can't wait for Iron Man to come out.)

But the one film I'm looking forward to the most (and which I'll hopefully get to see ce weekend avec ma mère), is Be Kind Rewind, a Michel Gondry flick. Gondry is the guy behind such movies as Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and The Science of Sleep, as well as a slew of music videos, such as the Foo Fighters' "Everlong," Björk's "Human Behavior," and Daft Punk's "Around the World." Eternal Sunshine is easily one of my favorite movies of all time. And while I didn't like it quite as much as Eternal Sunshine, The Science was tremendously creative and imaginative - I still don't know how they did a few of the things in it, in spite of the do-it-yourself feel. Gondry is just a weird little French man with ideas spilling out of his ears, and I love him for it. Check out the trailer for Be Kind Rewind below.

If it's green, I'm not drinking it.

2008-02-20T11:04:00.000-05:00

I have already thought about St. Patrick's Day (it's "the new Christmas" don'tcha know). If one is so inclined, it can be a day of legend - an epic day with hilarious, bizarre, and hazy tales. For the past two years, I've done the Boston thing - bar hopping with friends, all with the intention of catching the parade the Sunday morning... though never actually getting to Southie to see it. Two years ago was because Annie and I had to spend the night back at Wheaton and the next day I got into Boston a little too late; instead, I spent the afternoon photographing the Fanuiel Hall area festivities for my senior project. Last year was because I was too busy freezing outside of Rob's apartment for an hour waiting for a bus that never came... damn MBTA. Jojo and I ended up watching parade highlights at Kait's Northeastern apartment while eating scrambled eggs and bacon.

A couple of stories are a little too "epic" to tell here, but the night always proves to be a good bit of fun... dare I say good craic? Like when Annie, Jojo, and my non-smoking ass FLEW up the Government Center steps, cigarettes dangling from mouths in some weird drunken rite of passage. (The really bizarre part was that none of us were winded after the three flights of stairs, puffing away.) Or last year, when Jojo, a tiny redhead decked out in an emerald green peacoat, attacked a parked Hummer with the driver and his date still inside, yelling something to the effect of "conspicuously consuming ASSHOLE! Oil-swilling mother---" There's also starting up conversations with random Irishmen, concerning the Twilight Zone-like phenomena of the women's room line moving faster than the men's. Pub food and Theater District divebars. Green hats and Jameson... oh Jameson...

Maybe this year, I should migrate to Cambridge/Somerville area and avoid the classy (relatively speaking) and over-priced places that speckle downtown. Maybe even catch a show... sing-along, anyone?

While in Boston that holiday weekend, it's important to remember the lesser-known St. Joseph's (aka San Giuseppe) Day (I always remember the day after... when the pastries are gone...) Maybe this year, I'll have a clear enough head to float into the North End and pick up some zeppole - though not from Mike's Pastry (it's one of those places that's really popular, but you're not sure why, cause they're not really that great.) A cappuccino and a zeppole on the Sunday morning after a St. Patrick's Day celebration? From the best of Ireland to the best of Italy. Pinch me.

I can has dress plz?

2008-02-18T12:49:00.000-05:00

Damn that ScarJo - the make-up is a little much, but the dress...?

Do you think she'd let me borrow it for the Big A?

March 18th say whaaaaat?

2008-02-16T20:15:00.000-05:00

Apparently, everyone got together (and by "everyone," I mean "M. Ward, Zooey Deschanel, The Kills, and Devotchka"), and said, "how can we overwhelm Alec? Oh yes - let's all put out albums on the same day! That will really fry her music-addled brain!"

There are worse ways to fry your brain, I suppose. Now let me break it down like a fraction for ya...

She & Him (M. Ward and Zooey Deschanel) release Volume 1.

M. Ward's been doing his thing for quite some time, steadily putting out heartbreaking, sung-into-a-tin-can type albums. Zooey Deschanel's been doing her acting thing for a while, but I hope this turns her towards music more permanently. She's got some amazing pipes - smoky, sassy, and surprisingly strong. There are some original tracks on this, as well as some old soul covers. I foresee this album to be prime new meat for indie and neo-soul kids who like a little 60's Du-Wop. I just hope this impending popularity doesn't overwhelm the low-key Ward and/or put him in some second fiddle corner... because he's awesome. And amazing as Volume 1 sounds, I hope he continues to put out solo material.

The Kills release Midnight Boom.

Another male/female duo! But these two are a little more rock'n'roll... but don't you dare compare them to the White Stripes, because unlike the White Stripes, The Kills don't suck!

The Kills last album was No Wow in 2005 - a good and rough and gritty record with plenty of growling bass, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. With this upcoming record, however, they've apparently headed in a more electronic direction (which is what they've partially classified themselves as for some time), so I'm interested to see what they do with that. I'm already a fan of the sexy and nonsensical single, "U.R.A Fever" - here's hoping the whole album is this solid.

Devotchka releases A Mad and Faithful Telling.

Devotchka always reminded me of a few ragtag kids from marching band in high school that were constantly picked on and disappeared after high school, only to pop up ten years later to kick an awesome amount of ass.

Their sound is that of a band of Eastern European folk musicians, blended with an western American vibe, à la Calexico, with a splash of mariachi. Since their amazing and epic theme album, How It Ends, in 2004, they've released an EP of covers (containing a Velvet Underground cover that may be even better than the original), and were the main creative force behind the Little Miss Sunshine soundtrack. Stereogum has the new single, "Transliterator," available for download... or you can just listen to it on the band's myspace.

From the sound of it, it would seem that Devotchka's up to their old, feisty tricks -- and that's perfectly fine with me. It looks like I will be one happy camper come March 18th.

"I fell off the jetway again."

2008-02-15T15:57:00.001-05:00

There's an interesting article from the NY Times called "Are Americans Hostile to Knowledge," concerning the dumbing down of America. Simple things like locating Iran on a map, or -- for the love of humanity -- knowing that HUNGARY is a country, are used as examples.

I'm in the boat where I feel like I can never know enough -- that I can never read or hear or see enough. I'm a glutton for words and books, for culture. I'm dying to learn more and always feel a step (or eighty) behind. But it's just sad that people are caught in this intensely stupid and stubborn lurch: they're either horribly misinformed, uninformed, believe that opinion is fact and vice versa, or just believe that generally "knowing shit" is unimportant. When you place education at the bottom of the totem pole, your country may not show signs of it immediately -- but it will show -- and how. The socialization of knowledge that's happened since the internet has become more commonplace has its positives and negatives: on one hand, people feel open to contribute, and the exchange of information is easier than ever.

On the other hand, a lot of people are dumb.

I'm not saying I'm awesomely smart, or that the aura of my knowledge overwhelms all who surround me, but I know enough to know that I know (relatively) nothing at all. People who can't spell or pronounce "Shiite" or "nuclear" probably shouldn't be talking about such things until they maybe do something like, say, read.

The first time I read the inscription on the north side of the main Boston Public Library building in Copley Square, I was smitten. It says: "THE COMMONWEALTH REQUIRES THE EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE AS THE SAFEGUARD OF ORDER AND LIBERTY." How amazing a thought is that? I love it! We live in a country that (ideally), embraces knowledge over ignorance, thereby over fear... I wish people would just grab hold of that simple thought.

It's a lovely thing, thought.

ScarJo? Is that you?

2008-02-12T20:57:00.000-05:00

So Hilary has a new campaign manager and Obama has chic celebrity backing.

While that's fun and inspirational for the short attention-span crowd, here's the real speech (it kicks in around the 2 minute mark). It's very compelling - in that rather vague hope/change sort of way. Obama's a blah debater, but an amazing speaker. But at the risk of sounding like a total drag, I'll quote one of my favorite Slate journalists and fellow Obama supporter, David Plotz: "I don't want to be rallied." He went on to say that the nature of crowds can be scary - they have a tendency to act "independently of rationality." Plotz goes so far as to call it rather "fascistic," which isn't necessarily as far-flung as it sounds. Obviously, Obama is not a right wing fascist, but the massive rallying of large groups of people can be both amazing and dangerous: "mob mentality."

It's hard not to be swept up in Obama's promise of hope and change in these extraordinarily frustrating times when, as a citizen, you feel hopeless, impotent and cast aside... but just remember to think for yourself and remain a healthy skeptic of those who lead this country - because it's your freaking country, too.

"There's a reason why they call it 'healthy skepticism,' sweetie - because it's healthy."
- Mom

Il fait froid au jour d'hui.

2008-02-11T16:28:00.000-05:00

When I checked my Dashboard weather widget this morning, it just said "9"... as if "9" was a perfectly logical and normal thing for it to say. With windchill, it's well below zero. I put aside all fashion dignity and wore my over-sized winter coat that has withstood many a New England storm, bit the hat-head bullet and stepped out of Back Bay. Coming out of the station felt like jumping into a frozen swimming pool. I consider myself relatively hardy, but I actually felt myself gasping from the shock in the wind tunnels of downtown. It throws you and completely cuts off your ability to think because all your body is letting you think is "get somewhere warm, getsomewherewarmNOW!!" It's made especially cruel, considering this day has had the only sign of sun we've experienced in over a week. Quel drag.

But enough griping. I hunkered down in the duplé and spent much of the weekend being semi-productive, i.e. writing letters and baking. I tried my hand at Italian bread, which came out.... oddly. It tasted great and had decent texture, but looked like a semi-deflated soccer ball and adhered itself to the pan with religious zealousness (though I corn mealed the hell out of bottom.) Lesson learned. Next time, I won't rush the rising, and I'll use parchment paper as well... Teflon parchment paper greased with 4-in-1 oil...

Most likely carcinogenic polyurethane compound spreading of microthin substance over a negatively charged layer of aluminum, copper, iron, lead, VHS, FYI, apple pie, FBI, and some other elements too...

It ain't the Green Isle for nothin'

2008-02-07T13:52:00.000-05:00

While Whole Foods is just starting to charge for their plastic bags, Ireland has been a little more bold and charges a tax of 22 euro cents per plastic bag. It's not a hard habit to start and it's quite beneficial for... everyone. While I found a minor frustration in Italy (they usually charged 5 cents per busta), I got over it. By mid-semester, I almost always went shopping with my backpack, which actually made it easier to navigate the Florentine streets - no bags to get caught on stuff, like say, passing motorini.

An easy, socially responsible solution: buy the fiber/reusable bags (around $8-$10 for 3-4 of them), and when you're done unloading your groceries, you just pop the bags right back into the car so you don't forget them next time around. No biggie. Let's hope this kick starts a major trend.

And in completely unrelated bit of news, I zinged Rob's mom so badly, I just had to share. He has since defended his mother's honor by throwing mine down a ravine several times (metaphorically), but that's beside the point. Here it is, and for those not in the know, the "T" is the public transit system in Boston.

Rob: it's one town over
Rob: actually kelly's is on the T
Rob: orange line
Rob: if you want to call that the T
A-Town: oh snap
A-Town: elitist
Rob: the orange skeeves me out
A-Town: so does your mom, but that doesn't keep me from riding her

Thank you - I'll be here all week!

The more you know...

2008-02-05T14:47:00.000-05:00

I've been doing some more research on Valencia, because Rach and I didn't really know too much about it when we chose it. Our decision to go to Valencia came about as follows:
A-Town: Ryanair doesn't fly Pisa to Madrid!
Rachel: Crap! Where does it go?
A-Town: It flies to Valencia... that sounds promising...
Rachel: You know what - screw Madrid! It had it coming! ... So, where's Valencia?

Valencia is happily just down the coast from Barcelona, which should make for a nice, relatively easy train ride when we head north. It sounds like a really great place, actually. Something sort of quiet after a whirlwind few days in Firenze. Wanna know some factoids about V-Town, as well as some subjective truthitudes? Valencia has the largest aquarium in Europe (which I'm kind of geeking out about because I strode to be a mammal marine biologist... when I was 9.) It's supposedly a great city for young artists and still has a certain "old world charm." It's also fiscally responsible: nice hostel lodging for four days for both Rachel and myself came out to be just a smidgen over $300, and I hear that most tapas run around $4.

Cheap sardines? Why not?

Valencia is on the list of "Second-Tier Cities" from the NY Times, which also includes Italy's prodigal son, Napoli. They're cities that one wouldn't necessarily think of when someone asks "where do you want to go in Europe?" - but fine, up-and-coming, bring-home-to-Mom type places nonetheless.

Sounds nice, huh? I just hope I can pick up some Spanish before this trip, and not confuse it with my limited Italian in the process. I watched Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations: Paris" after some nudging by Rob (I find Bourdain obnoxious - and not in an endearing Dr. House sort of way...) Well, I now find Bourdain tolerable, but also, I miss.... European-ness. More than ever. I really miss the French language. It was my second language - I took seven years of it, giving up after freshman year of college because I dealt with a bitter WASP of a professor who wished he was French so badly that he took out his misery on my grammar skills. I never had a chance to speak it with someone who wasn't an educator, and when you're abroad there's something thrilling about asking for directions or even buying stamps in another language. I simply enjoy hearing French, and speaking it can be a pleasure when it's a casual situation. It's not as warm and vivacious as Italian, or cool as Spanish, but its filled with subtleties and swirling tones. The end of their words get pulled up by invisible strings and tumble down and up, and then get crammed together like cars in traffic, only to free up unexpectedly. An interesting language.

As for today being Super Tuesday, I'm not registered as a Democrat, so I'm not voting in the primary. But, I of course look forward to see who will nail this... or gently cradle this like a photo-op baby. (But how cute is that Obama/baby picture??) I have reservations about both Democratic candidates, but I won't voice my concerns till the dust settles - once they're in-line for the nomination, they're a little more secure. And I'll say this about the Republicans: John McCain looks like he couldn't handle the stress created by climbing a flight of stairs and his eagerness to appease the right concerns me immensely; Mitt Romney? Well, he reminds me of the evil billionaire from the classically MST3K'd movie Timechasers.

So what if I'm a nerd - he's evil.

Perfection just takes so much WORK.

2008-02-03T23:28:00.000-05:00

Rob: WHAT fucking bullshit
A-Town: I KNOW
A-Town: i am upset
Rob: even you are! shit

I like Bill Bellchick. While his habit of cutting off the sleeves of his sweatshirts is wasteful (what does he do with the sleeves??), it's almost endearing in an obsessive sort of way. He also looks like the kind of guy who, if he were your uncle, would never say much more to you other than "stay out of trouble"... but come Christmas, would give you an envelope with an obscene amount of cash in it. Randy Moss can fly. Welker is the spry hobbit of the NFL. Bruschi is an inspirational made-for-TV-movie waiting for happen. And Tom Brady... well.

He's Tom Brady.

So I was disappointed with tonight's game. Both teams were tough, but... so it goes.

But I won't say that the NY Giants coach needs to crawl back under the bridge from whence he came. Or that one of the owners of the Giants looks like a pedophile. Or that Eli Manning was a quarter of a chromosome away from being the slow kid who stuck his hand in the Fry-alator at McDonald's...

I will say this, however: I'm sorry, Boston. It is going to be a depressing week. And I'm up past my bedtime. The only thing worse than bloated, hung-over, exuberant Catholics is bloated, hung-over, depressed Catholics - a people who thrive on mourning, loss and misplaced guilt and anger. And I'll be stuck in the tin can known as the MBTA with them all week.

Let the grouching begin!

But as I finish my highball, I'll remind myself that 18-0 ain't too freaking shabby and shall now start chanting the Bostonia mantra of "next yeeah, baby!" To cheer myself up, I shall post a picture of Tom Brady holding a baby goat. Simply because such a thing exists.

Reason #8496 why Eryn rocks my world.

2008-02-01T20:55:00.000-05:00

As much as I've been trying (and lord, have I been trying), to "put a smile" on this week, it has been impossible. Monday, first thing out of the house, I slipped on some black ice and landed squarely on my tailbone. I try not to let morning crap determine the mood of my day, but when you've got a sore bum, it's sort of hard not to. Tuesday: spilled coffee in the car. Wednesday: migraine...

Et cetera, et cetera.

This week has been chock full of the kind of annoyances that cause high blood pressure and... baldness. Every time I turn around, there's someone just waiting to get in my way so I miss the T, or swerve their car to hit the nearby puddle to splash me. The "A" in "A-Town" stood for "Angry," my friends.

But wait! There is a silver lining to the ominous acid rain-filled cloud that has been this week.

The B to my BW got me a BW gift... just for being BW, I guess! (So many B's!) We were talking Amalgamation stuff earlier today while longingly looking at the pictured clutch purse online. I was this close to giving J. Crew my credit card digits when Eryn told me, in a can't-keep-a-sweetass-secret sort of way (another shared trait), that I'd be receiving that very same drool-inducing purse in the mail quite soon. PIMP!

I feel lucky to have friends who are worth flying halfway around the world for and remind you just why exactly they're so awesome in some form or another everyday. And in all fairness, PL, I would have attended the Big A even without the coveted clutch... but just barely...

What can I say? I'm a sucker for a Renaissance man.

2008-02-01T10:19:00.000-05:00

There's an interesting article in the NY Times today about "Artistic Muscle, Flexed for The Medici." It's a nice little flashback to SACI, but without the dead-out run, followed by hours of standing in a church or palazzo or piazza or field that usually accompanied such information. After reading Ross King's Michelangelo and the Pope's Ceiling, dozens of articles and getting schooled by Helen, I'm quite familiar with Michelangelo and his general brilliant misery, but it was a nice refresher about the Michelangelini - the students and artists who toiled in Michelangelo's shadow... like, say, Pontormo and his creepy Mannerist style. What stands out in memory is the Deposition fresco in Santa Felicità (where Helen, our professor, came this close to interrupting a funeral service, but we ended up getting lunch and someone sneaked a huge slice of Nutella cake into the church). The bright pastels colors don't hide the weird, ethereal and transgender qualities to the fresco. It's unsettling in a way. Bearing that in mind, I was surprised to see this drawing by Pontormo - it's... very modern; made of movement. Full of surprises, that crazy Pontormo!

And apparently (though not surprisingly), most of these artists lived "tortured existences." Rosso Fiorentino died an apparent suicide, Pontormo lived in anti-social solitude, and Michelangelo was an asexual, grumpyass bastard for all of his 88 years. I should really try to check out Vasari's Lives of Artists... I imagine it's like a very well-written Renaissance version of a weekly tabloid.

If I weren't headed back to the central hub of these artists in 80-ish days(!), I would consider catching the show in NY... but I'll be up to my eyeballs in Renaissance art soon enough...

"Michelangelo designed this very panino. It is considered one of the most perfect sandwiches in the history of mankind. Here are the original sketches, as well as 498 letters to his brothers and father describing the pain involved in creating this lunch commission. No eating, please."

Of liquid chocolate, Russians, and audial pleasure.

2008-01-28T14:18:00.000-05:00

Oh, Boston. City of... things...

History? Patriotic beer? Guys named "Sully"? After work on Friday, I enjoyed some of the finer aspects of Boston area with some of the finer people of Boston area. I had dinner with Emily and Courtney, two of my senior year suitemates (the amazing Maura was sick - boo) at Border Cafe in Cambridge. The food was pretty good (awesome tortilla chips), but the margaritas were hit or miss. The strawberry one was watery and flavorless, but the traditional margarita was excellent - eliciting the universal response of "now that's a margarita." Afterwards, we hit up Burdick's, a chocolate shop(pe?) that was just featured in the NY Times, and rightfully so. The hot chocolate was intense. Thick and über chocolaty - the best stuff this side of the Atlantic. We called it an early night and I crashed at Em's, burrowing into her 15º-rated sleeping bag. Saturday morning, I caught up with Roberto (aka Rob) and we hit Diesel Cafe in Davis Square. Man, they have good coffee. I always forget how good coffee can really be. I think I'm over my twice a week Starbucks habit after drinking a caramel macchiato while waiting for the train after having had the espresso latte at Diesel. I've been spoiled. The Coffee Exchange, Roba Dolce and Diesel have ruined readily available, over-priced coffee places with their superior, fresh flavor and perfect foam...

But in short, it was a lovely evening/morning in Boston. I like my friends. I don't care if that makes me sound like a simpleton, but... they're wicked awesome.

Saturday night, I watched Eastern Promises by myself. How to best describe it... Raw? Gritty? Jarring? Then again, a film dealing with the Russian mafia and human trafficking is probably all of the above. Viggo Mortensen is absolutely amazing. His Russian mannerisms are spot-on - appropriately muted - creating a character who is all the more sinister due to his practiced restraint. He walks a fine line - he is physically and psychologically threatening, while also being completely magnetic. The rest of the cast does a wonderful job as well, but the film just feels like it was written for him.

After that heavy bit of cinema, I got a call from Eryn and we swapped stories about Italia and dogs and LIFE. I think I may have laughed for about 45 minutes straight. I need to remember to stretch my facial muscles before I have a conversation with either her or A-Town to prevent strains. In spite of the pain, I definitely went to bed with a smile on my face. Fantastico.

As for an aspect of life that isn't very fun, but I'm trying desperately to make fun, I've started a more formal search for a Boston/Boston area apartment, since this commute is killing me and there are fewer and fewer reasons for me to stay in RI. The hunt is overwhelming and frustrating to a degree (I equate craigslist with a punch in the face), but I've gotten some good advice from friends in the area that'll help me narrow my search and weed out some of the nonsense.

Back to nerdy fun. Early 2007, I assembled an iTunes playlist of all the music I acquired from late 2005 through 2006. I then whittled that list down to 52 songs (to average one song per week), based mostly on play count, but also taking into account personal significance. I know - it is extremely nerdy and obsessive - but I like to see how trends and my musical taste have evolved. It also acts as a quick reference for some of my favorite songs.

I'm working on my 2007 playlist now, and to my surprise, M. Ward had the most artist plays ("I'll Believe in Anything" by Wolf Parade is my #1 played song - surprised?) This data doesn't include songs played on my iPod, on which I listen to most of my music... but still. I am sur-prised. M. Ward just ninja'd himself into the musical collection of my heart. It all started in 2006 with "Chinese Translation" - just simple, classic folk song-writing at its finest - after that, I dug deeply into his music and struck gold. As for the 2007 list, I have it narrowed down to 66 songs - not including Josh Ritter. It just can't be done. If there's such a thing as too much good music, 2007 had it.

But the real news is this: M. Ward and Zooey Deschanel are releasing the album Volume 1 under the moniker She & Him on March 18th. Sweetness in aural form. I think it's going to be a great start to my Spring. You can listen to (and download - shh!) their cover of "You Really Got a Hold on Me" here. Zooey's voice just plumb knocked my socks off.

See? They're over there. By the end table.

My plan is going exactly according to... plan.

2008-01-24T14:34:00.000-05:00

Can I get a drum roll please? Ladies and gentlemen, Rachel and I have concluded our booking of the trip: lodgings and air travel are now SET. We booked our digs in Barcelona and home sweet Firenze the other day and I guess I feel a little too accomplished after sorting through a few dozen flights, hostels, hotels, and apartments per city (including the ill-fated Madrid)...

But whatever... BOOSH!

In Barcelona, we'll be staying at the Downtown Paraiso Hostel, a place run by four friends (which worked out in Switzerland... oh Switzerland! You'll always have a little piece of my heart, Simon.) This hostel, in a city filled with over-priced dumps, turns out to be reasonable and an even better catch if it lives up to its description. It's close to Las Ramblas, but not too close, and it looks chic but still cozy in hostel terms. (Though I'm not sure whether I love that room or just find the mural really creepy.)

As for Firenze, we'll be staying in Hotel Tina which, from what I gather, is about two - count 'em, TWO - blocks away from the chambers of les personnes célèbres - that is to say, PL and A-Town, the very people who are bringing us all together for this Glorious Amalgamation of truth and beauty. With their love for love. And love for holy matrimony. And love for gelato and really old things. Our hotel is close to San Marco, which is pretty groovy and about four blocks from the Mighty Stallions. Very exciting. Can't wait to swing by some of my old haunts...

Yeah that's right... what up, Standa? You got some pesca té for me? Is it Clever? Hm? Is it? And Astor, do you remember Bianca?

No, screw that noise. I hated Standa and their untamed surliness. That store is like a very unfunny version of Clerks. I'm going to the place near the Accademia, with the guy with the bandanna. (Two euro says he's still there.) Or the Mercato Centrale with its multi-leveled goodness. Rachel and I have already agreed we're probably on the wine, cheese, bread and fruit diet the whole time we're there. Which is fine. Hopefully, we end up dropping a few pounds and acquiring a healthy flush to our cheeks.

But my number one priority, apart from flying (literally flying, Mercury-style) into the arms of my beloved and stuffing my face with these bad boys, is to get some Sad Gelato Man gelato. Eryn and I have discussed this ultimate reunion many times and have only agreed that we must expect the unexpected. But in all likelihood, there will be a scene. And many awkward pictures taken.

Things that I want to do that I didn't do while in Firenze? Maybe hit up the Duomo ("Duo"/"dwhoah" for those in the know) and Santa Croce to see some tombs (Michelangelo, Machiavelli and Ghiberti). And the old favorite of catching the sunset at Piazzale and then hitting up El Taco, OF COURSE. And then Art Bar for a girls' night out. So much to do! (I like how the majority of my priorities revolve around food.)

What I miss the most is that these places (SGM's, El Taco, SACI, Art Bar, Fiddler's Elbow, the Odeon, this statue...) were such a focus and we were so attached and cared about them so much, it feels like no one else could come close to caring about them as we did - and do, to this day. So, in that respect, they're ours. And I can't wait to go back and show Firenze what I've become - a lot of which is due to it and the experiences I had there.

But for now all I have to do is buy a dress and show up! ...And find a way to pay for it all... but I suppose that's why Ramen and home-brewed espresso exist. Good thing I like home-brewed espresso, even with my little crappy steam-driven machine. Making coffee can be so meditative - I enjoy the process on the weekends, when I'm not in a rush. I think that would be one of the biggest bummers to a planned pregnancy - quitting caffeine. Stupid babies and their vulnerability to stimulants... why do they have to be such... babies??

And just for kicks, here's JR and the boys performing on Letterman Tuesday night. Yeah enthusiasm! Gotta love Zack's assistance on the cymbals.

Cappuccino and closure - what more could a girl ask for?

2008-01-22T11:20:00.000-05:00

Yesterday afternoon turned into a mini tour of Providence, complete with a failed attempt at brunch at Julian's on the Hill, followed by a trip to Wickenden for Pizza Pie-er, "the gourmet pizza experience" (it was ok, worth another shot I suppose), and then to Thayer for some cappuccino and dessert at Roba Dolce. Both the cappuccino and dessert (I shamefully forgot the name of the dish, but they were pastry balls of cream-covered AMAZING) were excellent. It's switched management since I was last there, and there is a noticeably positive difference in the product and the atmosphere (more cozy and slightly more formal/chic.) It's run by an enthusiastic and rather young Italian guy, though we never ended up asking him where in Italy he was from. I wanted to ask in Italian, but knew after de dove sei, I'd be at a loss for words. But my bro, Gabri, and I all received complimentary cups of coffee - score! As much as Thayer Street can be a pain and there are only so many college and high school students one can take, I'd say that Roba Dolce beats the lattes at the Coffee Exchange (though CE has the best whole beans... and the scene... and the art supply store across the street.)

And I had a pleasant surprise in store for me on Thayer - the business establishment of my last employment is now closed! Well, they've "moved locations." Whatever. It's off Thayer. It never should have been there in the first place... though I'd be ok with it not existing at all. I still can't believe how stressed that job would make me... But that chapter is now closed and I can walk down the street without shuddering every time I pass.

Infra structurally speaking, maybe I should consider a blog name change, like my twin just recently did. Mine has turned into a rather ironic title since I haven't done much art at all recently. Anyway, this is my 50th blog post since its inception in May of last year, though seven of those posts have happened just this January... can you tell I'm stepping up my game this year? Oh yeah... makin' it happen.

Freezing cold temperatures = pointless posting!

2008-01-21T00:38:00.000-05:00

This weekend has been quite low key, keeping in tone with the frigid temperatures. Yesterday, I didn't do much of anything, except pick up my new glasses (in black with blue highlights, which I would say fall under the category of "chic librarian"). Very exciting, I know. I also watched A Mighty Wind, which I saw years ago, but my love was rekindled by my relatively new appreciation for folk music and Parker Posey. The comedy is ridiculous, but dialed down to the point of deadpan absurdity. I recommend it and any other Christopher Guest mockumentary.

The Patriots are going to the Superbowl. Not exactly a surprise for a team that's 18-0 this season (but boy, will their faces be red if they lose the big one to Peyton's goofy little brother.) While I don't follow football very closely at all, I have to tip my hat to them - really exceptional all season long. Nicely done, Mr. Brady.

I had the honor of talking to both Miss Rachel and The Reginator today. "But how - how I say - did you talk to Regina, who is in the exotic far off land of Turkey?" Well, we used Skype, which I downloaded while I was in Italy, but never had the opportunity to use for anything other than instant messaging. As it turns out, it's pretty freaking awesome. The sound quality's great, there's very little lag... and oh yeah - it's free! I just use my laptop's built-in microphone and my regular speakers. You can surf the intertubes while you're talking and there's no pressure to cram in some amazing, life-changing conversation in as short a time as possible because it's freeeeee. So we were able to be our natural, idiotic selves. It was wonderful.

And it's official. Rachel and I will be staying Hostal Moratin in Valencia while we're there for four days, immediately post-Amalgamation. In terms of hostels, it looks somewhat classy, though rather spartan. While on the phone and looking at the hostel's photos, we both had the same reaction (in the Eurotrash voice): You like chair? Mmmm... we have chaaaair. There is only one chair... but it's so chic. We're either going to kill each other or end up bound by a civil ceremony at the end of this trip... probably the latter as European hostels usually mean double beds. Spicy!

This is completely and utterly unrelated to everything above, but my brother's playing Bioshock, a ridiculously gruesome, but ridiculously awesome computer game. The graphics and locomotion are amazing. The art, production and design detail are insane. Picture a city underwater, circa 1960, if Ayn Rand's ideas were taken seriously by a group of very well funded and very vehement group of people... A sort of disgustingly brutal and beautiful anarchy ensues. I simply enjoy watching it, because playing a game like that would get me frantic and squeamish.

Just leave me my Scrabulous.

We've just got these wooden scissors...

2008-01-19T18:56:00.000-05:00

When I asked Punky Lewster if she was familiar with Eddie Izzard, much to my chagrin, she said no. I was introduced to his comedy with Dress to Kill my sophomore year of college, and have been hooked ever since. His comedy is intellectual and random -- based on history, politics, and religion -- with bits about coffee and bees thrown in for good measure. While he's not for everyone (some get bogged down in the straight cross-dressing... and "The Riches" does kind of suck), I think he's amazing. I always thought it would be awesome to have dinner with him and Craig Ferguson (I love that they're friends), though I'd probably snarf some chicken alfredo out my nose. Classy.

Anyway, this is a bit from my favorite Eddie Izzard DVD, Glorious. Hope you (specifically PL) enjoy.

"Chinese people love controversy, we know that - Pearl Harbor."

2008-01-14T17:23:00.000-05:00

Found a web series online by Michael Cera (aka George Michael from "Arrested Development" and Evan from Superbad) and Clark Duke (who my brother remembered as the kid who said, "holy shit - Fogel's a badass!" in Superbad). You can find it here and it is definitely worth watching. The show is a "documentary" about them trying to get a script produced - each episode averages about 10 minutes. A minute and a half into the first episode, I was smitten. Super dry humor abounds... along with some really stupid gags that make you laugh anyway. I'm currently on episode four and it's only gotten better.

Today was a snow day. Last time I commuted into Boston when such snow was hyped, it took me four hours to get home, so I aired on the side of caution and held down the fort. It didn't turn out to be as crazy as they said, but it was that type of heavy, wet snow which makes you question why shovels aren't shaped more like buckets on poles. The perk of the situation was that the snow perfectly coated the trees. It looks really gorgeous, which is something one can appreciate before and after shoveling... not so much during.

This is random, but something that I've wanted to do more of is write letters. Some call it a lost art, and I suppose it's a sad truth... But I'm going to bring it back! (With recycled materials, of course.) You want a letter? I'll write you a letter. I'd been shamefully procrastinating in writing to a former professor, and I finally just sent her an email (I didn't want to delay further by trying to find nice stationary or some other excuse.) But maybe now since the appropriate mechanics are in motion, I should get started on that.

As for the BW process (Best Woman, for those not in the know), the dress that I bought? Yeah... that didn't work out so well. It was sort of spectacular, in a monumental failure sort of way. It was apparently made by someone who'd only been told what a woman was shaped like by a third-hand source, and had never actually seen one in person. Maybe Michelangelo designed it.

Worst. Wave. Ever.

2008-01-11T13:18:00.000-05:00

On January 8, 2008 the Boston Globe reported a wave of vomiting and diarrhea which has swept through three of Boston's major hospitals over the past month...

There must be a better way to phrase that.

Recycle the internet.

2008-01-10T15:20:00.000-05:00

My friend, Regina (aka "Reginator") has read my blog before, and thought it was ok, but said it lacks the personal flourishing and charming touches of my emails. I can't help it... I avoid most things personal because... well, it's a blog -- on the screaming, stupid, public highway of the internet. But to bend to the will of the Reginating honorary Istanbulian, I'm embellishing an email I sent her yesterday to see if I'm more on track with being the weirdo I really am. Here goes...

So, this is a little bit of old news, but I gave Mika (he's a standard poodle), his "Christmas Eve bath." Somehow, during that 45 minute window every year, he bends space and time, and through cunning doggie use of the theory of relativity, turns his 50 or so pounds of mass into 725. It's like his body turns into lead and darkmatter. A little collapsed neutron star on the black and white tiled floor. I go to lift him in the tub and he hunkers down like Ghandi or a drunken roommate and, through passive resistance, tries to prevent me from getting him into that tub. Then I can't help but laugh because the situation's just so ridiculous. And my laughter is like self-induced Kryptonite -- I turn into even more of a feeb, and he still hasn't budged an inch. So we're both on the bathroom floor, but only one of us finds it amusing.

He gets a couple of baths a year, but somehow, the winter one is just the most comical -- probably because his coat is longer; he deflates from an unidentifiable variety of medium-sized dog to some unidentifiable shivering dog half his original size. But he got his bath. Oh yes he did. And once dried, he fluffed out to the point where it was almost embarrassing -- an embarrassment of riches, if riches were hair. He's softer than a cotton ball and cute as a stuffed animal with little button eyes, but he looks a little odd. I think he feels uncomfortable being that fluffy. Emasculated, perhaps. He hasn't been neutered, so he can't complain.

Do you ever have those awkward moments when you go to greet someone and you both say "hi" or "hello" at the same time and you're so thrown by that weird twin talk that you don't say anything else afterwards? Then there's that void... These moments mostly happen with people you don't know that well, but feel compelled to say "hello" to. Do you know what I mean? It might even be worse than the premature "hello" - the "hello" from a distance, where you then continue to walk towards each other with nothing else to say. Awkward. Like a shoulder-touching/butt-out hug.

Most of my friends and I are firm believers in the go-for-it, balls-to-the-wall, hug-like-you-mean-it-cause-you-better-if-you're-hugging-me hugs. The P-Funk hug. I am a believer in this form of hug.

The other night, I booked my return ticket from Barcelona and my RyanAir flight from Dublin to Bologna (we fly from Boston to Dublin via Aerlingus.) But Rach and I ran into a roadblock - there doesn't seem to be an easy way to get from Florence to Madrid, so I made the suggestion to go to Valencia instead (there are flights from Pisa to Valencia.) I know nothing about Valencia except they apparently invented a superior orange. The Lonely Planet website makes it look pretty cool, so I'm down. Rachel responded to my "Valencia?" email with "You know what I say? Fuck Madrid." So, she's down for Valencia. From there, we can take a train up to Barcelona and after a few days, we can leave for the US from there. We've been planning this trip in segments, so it's been a little fucked up, like jigsaw pieces from a bargain bin puzzle, but it's just impossible to plan the whole thing in advance. I have borderline self-diagnosed OCD. Bear with me.

Something I didn't include in the e-mail was a blurb of conversation from last night while I was talking to Rachel on the phone, preparing to purchase plane tickets. We were chatting about this and that before we got down to business... Here's a fragment of the conversation, when Rachel stopped suddenly, as though a whale of a thought just beached itself on the coastline of her mind (yay metaphors!):

Rachel: You know what I really want to see in person?
A-Town [thinking the Gaudy cathedral in Barcelona or something]: What?
Rachel: That water-skiing squirrel...

I'll be traveling around Europe for two weeks with that girl. And I am souped.

Of future plans, change, e la lingua perfetta.

2008-01-07T14:51:00.000-05:00

Life is going on, as it is wont to do. I've tentatively chosen my BW (Best Woman) ensemble for The Amalgamation (pictured at right.) My mom and I agreed that red is a bit spicy for a wedding, but since it'll be in the Red Room at the Palazzo Vecchio, perhaps I'll just chameleon myself right into the background. And if Sister Scarlett has taught me anything, it's that a pale blonde can rock the red.

Remaining things to do concerning The Big A: book lodgings for Florence, Madrid and Barcelona (yeaaaaaah... gotta work on that). Also, I must get RyanAir tickets from Florence to Madrid, aaaaand that ever-so-important (albeit undesirable), return ticket from Europe to Bostonia. All these processes should be sped up by a call to Rach sometime tonight or tomorrow. While I was hoping to get a new iPod for the trip, that may have to be put off... indefinitely. But I'll see where I stand come April.

I've assembled a small list of New Year's Resolutions, which I've never done before, simply because I believe it's a day many use to excuse themselves from changing at any time - hunkering it all down to one day - as if an effort for change couldn't happen on any day.

Now, to thoroughly put my foot in my mouth, here are my resolutions.

1. Chill out.
1.a. sub-resolution: Quell the desire to slap people on the back of the head who walk slowly. (Note: this sub-resolution has already been broken.)
2. Be bolder.
3. Exercise daily. I've been good, but I can be better.
4. Get something published; a vague and largely unknown notion to most who know me, but I'd like to put my crappy something out there.
5. This is petty, but see Eryn's #5.
6. Be the best BW I can be not only for The Big A, but continue to be the BW I can a non-Amalgamation context, as well.
7. Get back to art.
8. I'm sure there was something else, but like Sad Gelato Man in the winter months, it escapes me. Probably something about not commuting 20 hours a week.

I watched 8 1/2 again, starring my main man, Marcello Mastroianni (molto alliteration!) Italian is such a phenomenal language. While it's not quite as smooth as French, it has a rhythm and attitude of its own. The sounds of the words are... well - I can't think of a word for it in English. The language can be casual and friendly or powerful and assertive - it almost possesses a sort of languid sexuality that can be manipulated through tone and delivery. Even giving directions looks and sounds lovely - e dopo la luce, vai a la destra. When spoken with a Roman accent? Bellisima.

As for the image to the upper left, I imagine that will be what The Amalgamation will be like. Apparently, I must find a hat.

2007 Music in Review

2007-12-31T16:30:00.000-05:00

I've painstakingly assembled the most subjective and epic list of the year - my favorite music of the year. And since having a "Top 12 Albums of the Year" post would be kind of odd, here are...

The Honorable Mentions
You're still pretty wonderful!

Feist: The Reminder
No one really knew who in-the-name-of-Quebecois this chick was until she popped up in iPod ads, Verizon ads, Starbucks shops, and on the soundtrack for Paris, Je T'aime. This attention, albeit a bit overdue (and a lot bit over-commercialized), is well-deserved. The Reminder is a much needed creative jolt to the bland pop scene of late. Her voice is a little bit raspy, a little bit sexy, and charmingly cracks with soulful sincerity. "How My Heart Behaves" is a slow, confessional with male backing-vocals, lending this feminine ballad a calloused hand. "1 2 3 4," "I Feel It All," and "Past in the Present" are... feisty tunes - pardon the pun, but it's true. Check out Feist's older Let It Die for a hip lounge sound blended with acoustic sensibility.

Interpol: Our Love to Admire
Interpol is moody NYC/Brit-infused rock, brought to you by scenesters with a bit of soul. They create perfect music for winter's darkest days and the darker end of your life's spectrum of moodiness. That's not to say everything they do makes you want to dress in tight black clothes and straighten your hair - "Heinrich Maneuver" has flamboyant vocals and a beat so energetic it practically stumbles over itself. Highlights like "Pioneer to the Falls" and "Scale" chug uphill with a dark pulse and riffs to match.

While Interpol haven't really stretched their proverbial wings too much with this record, if it ain't broke...

The Top Ten
You're arbitrarily better!

10 | Rogue Wave: Asleep at Heaven's Gate
I was excited for Rogue Wave's new album. Descended Like Vultures was a great record, and they've been making strides with their relatively new and unique sound with each album. This year's effort was a solid compilation, with the amazing single, "Lake Michigan" leading the way. The album builds up and tumbles down, going from a cacophony to soft vocals - and that's just starting with the opening track, "Harmonium." "Chicago X 12" and "Ghost" are about as pop-ish as Rogue Wave is probably ever going to get, but they're skillful, jaunty songs. "Lullaby" and "I Can Die" (a bonus track) are pulsing and edgy, leading the listener through a mountainous aural landscape in true Rogue Wave fashion.

9 | Spoon: Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
I've jumped, or rather stumbled, on the bandwagon. Austin-natives, Spoon, have released a surprisingly artfully accessible and tight record with this year's Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga. With a smattering of horns and ample usage of tambourine, "You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb" and the upbeat anthem "The Underdog" guarantee Spoon a much broader audience, but... who cares? They're damn good songs. It's tracks like the indignant, unabashed growling rock of "Don't Make Me A Target," the funky "Finer Feelings," and the sassy and sexy "Eddie's Ragga" that will keep this album in heavy rotation in one's collection. They're sweet talking rock to come in a new direction... and they're quite persuasive. It's time to give credit where credit is due.

8 | Amy Winehouse: Back to Black
She's walking disaster. And she totally stood up my friends at ACL. But the girl's got pipes.

With Back In Black, Winehouse teamed up with super producer Mark Ronson and constructed a Motown vibe that's so spot-on, it sounds like it was yanked straight from a Detroit studio in the 60's... but with a lot more vulgarity. Smooth and solid bass lines, daintily chattering piano, pulsing horns and ample use of high-hat give this record a gorgeous instrumental foundation. On tracks like "These Tears Dry On Their Own" and "Back to Black" Winehouse's voice is smoother than velvet but not short on character with its smoky undertones and solid range. Let's hope this girl pulls it together.

7 | Travis: The Boy With No Name
I have a little spot in my heart for Travis. Maybe it's because they're Scottish. Or maybe because the lead singer goes by "Fran." Or maybe that they were one of the first bands that I liked that actually made music that is widely accepted as good, and continues to do so, almost ten odd years after I "discovered" them.

Their previous LP, 12 Memories was a solid, introspective record... but maybe kinda sorta... dark. Post-bad breakup kind of dark. And I think a lot of Travis fans were afraid that the band was headed down a gloomy path, never to return to the acoustic jam with soul and sincerity that they did ohso well. Well, the boys are out of the woods - they've got smiles on their faces and they're clicking their heels. "Selfish Jean" is nothing but fun: you keep the chocolate biscuits wired to a car alarm, oh selfish Jean! And while songs like "Big Chair" and "Out In Space" are vaguely reminiscent of the sound of 12 Memories, their videos for the lovely tracks "My Eyes" (a song Fran Healy wrote for his son) and "Closer" (complete with famous cameo), show that they're back to their old, charming selves. To quote Mr. Healy, "welcome in."

6 | Benjamin Biolay: Trash Yéyé
I'm probably the only person on the eastern seaboard who can say this... but I've been waiting for Trash Yéyé from Benjamin Biolay for months. I'm relieved the record has lived up to the hype that I attached to it so prematurely.

Benjamin Biolay has an exceptional handle on producing and composing tunes, and this album is no different. He's come further in his ability to manipulate sound, and the album is a considerable step forward. He's taken the best musical elements of Negatif (i.e. grand, swooping orchestral riffs), and the adventurous bold confidence of A L'origine to create what is probably his best work yet. The album is cohesive and strong throughout - sexy and smooth. Even the single, "Dans la Merco Benz," has grown on me.

In France, he's earned the monicker of "the new Serge Gainsbourg," but other than the nicotine-coated mellow vocals, it's an unfound nickname. Biolay deftly avoids the kitsch that bogs down the legacy of Gainbourg, all while remaining faithfully... "French." With Trash Yéyé, Benjamin Biolay continues to expand on his career of truly being a musicians's musician.

5 | The Fratellis: Costello Music
The Fratellis hail from Scotland and if you listen closely, you can hear them playing from here... Loud and belligerent tracks like "Chelsea Dagger" and "Baby Fratelli" make this the record of the year that makes you want to get drunk in a bar and sing ("la la's" and "na na's" abound on this record)... or fight. Costello Music would make the perfect musical accompaniment for the pastime of "Guinness and fights..." not that I know anyone who engage in such an activity.

It has its moments of sweetness and sentimentality, tempered by brash honesty, e.g. "Whistle for the Choir": So if you're crazy / I don't care - you amaze me / But you're a stupid girl... They're like a less squeaky clean version of Ok-Go... so pretty much Ok-Go if they grew up in Glasgow. There's a retro feel to many of the songs, like "Creepin' Up The Backstairs," with its warm, simple production and the pace of the acoustic guitar. Costello Music does not feed starving children in Africa or give you answers to life's deepest, darkest questions, but it is a whole lot of freaking fun. And the best part is that the Fratellis know it.

4 | Andrew Bird: Armchair Apocrypha
I'd be lying if I said this year's release from Andrew Bird was as warm and oddly comforting as 2005's The Mysterious Production of Eggs, but Andrew Bird is the thinking man's musician with the vocabulary of a lonely librarian, and has earned the right to do as he damn well pleases. This album is a tad production-heavy, but AB uses it as an exuse to try some new things. "Imitosis" is painfully clever and so lively it practically gives you a wink. The epic "Armchairs" slowly builds itself up and tears itself down, meandering between lonesome boredom and bemused anger: you didn't write/ you didn't call/ it didn't cross your mind at all - a surprisingly intimate line for a man who rarely sings without a substantial veil of metaphors. But don't get bogged down with emotion - "Darkmatter" slingshots you through space with a galloping drumbeat, pure energy and a little of that famous Bird whistle. "Scythian Empires" and "Simple X" march along with airy substance - warm and upbeat with amazing violin work (as per usual.) There's hardly a fault to be found with that Mr. Bird...

3 | Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova: Once: Music from the Motion Picture
There's no excuse not to be familiar with the movie Once - it's out on DVD now, so you should already know why this soundtrack is so darn good. Written and recorded and all that jazz by singers/songwriters/actors Glen Hansard (Guy) and Marketa Irglova (Girl), it's plain to see (aka hear) that they were fully invested in these songs. The tracks fit the film perfectly: simple and beautiful, usually ebbing somewhere between toe-tapping and tear-jerking. "Falling Slowly" was the song they pushed when the film came out, but it's not the only piece of brilliance on there; "When Your Mind's Made Up," "Fallen From The Sky" (the baby Casio keyboard!), and "All The Way Down" are all tremendous pieces of work from the best co-ed duo since Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan... who are also Irish. Coincidence? I think not.

2 | Aqualung: Memory Man
Matt Hales, the ridiculously adorable and delightfully clever one-man-band, Aqualung, released his finest assemblage of musicality to date. It's a bright and beautiful collection, more energetic than its predecessor, the lovely but down-tempo Strange and Beautiful. "Cinderella" is a beautiful, tumultuous song, filled with vocals that sink and soar, built to match the delicate brushes of piano keys alternating with the deafening slamming of the bass strings.

But wait - there's more!

"Outside" and "Rolls So Deep" are appropriate roll-the-windows-down type tunes for a summer's day. Even "The Lake," a haunting track, has an "oomph" that wasn't really present in his previous work. It seems that he's received a long overdue boost of confidence. Aqualung has grown leaps and bounds with this album and deserves every bit of praise he's received and then some.

1 | Josh Ritter: The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter
It's extraordinarily difficult to write about Josh Ritter's music without gushing a bit. His 2006 release, The Animal Years, comes out of its package fully assembled - leaving this feeling that your job as a listener shouldn't be that easy. It's beautiful and thought-provoking - but like Bernini's David (the ultimate A-Town compliment) - it's finished - polished and prime for admiration. The Historical Conquests comes with some assembly required. The record throws you around a bit - your hands get dirty, you sweat and laugh and cry and are ultimately left with a feeling of immense satisfaction. This album feels more interactive, more aggressive - like you've spent all day raising a musical barn and at the end of the whole thing, Josh Ritter's going to be standing there, ready with a cold beer and a celebratory slap on the back. From the roaring "Real Long Distance Call," to the exquisitely delicate song about a possible nuclear apocalypse, "The Temptation of Adam," to the snarling "Mind's Eye," JR branches out to fierce and beautiful territory unknown to lesser souls. The Historical Conquests... was supposedly the product of a few weeks in Maine last winter... I say, give the man a case of Jameson, a pair of wool mittens, and send him back - there's so much more music to be had.

Top Songs of 2007
(in no particular order or quantity)

Ryan Adams: "Oh My God, Whatever, Etc." & "Two Hearts," Easy Tiger
Ok, so Ryan's Easy Tiger didn't make my album list... but two of his songs did. I don't know if it's the über simple production, the sweetness of his voice, or the old-school country content of the lyrics, but whatever it is, "Oh My God, Whatever, Etc." is definitely worth a listen... or fifty. The loud, rowdy, don't-give-a-crap Ryan is fun... but humble, quiet Ryan is brilliant.

Now, let's say, metaphorically speaking, that the most beautiful, amazing and delicious sandwich Ryan Adams ever made was Cold Roses. It was glorious, but in all the reveling in the brilliance of said sandwich, RA just plumb forgot he had an avocado ripening in a paper bag. "Two Hearts" is that avocado. Cold Roses was fine without it, but I'm glad Ryan remembered it on his kitchen counter and made it the delicious and creamy guacamole core of Easy Tiger. You know what I mean?

Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova: "When Your Mind's Made Up," Once [Soundtrack to the Motion Picture]
There's something about this song. You get a moment of it in the Once trailer and I spent much of the movie waiting, just waaaiting for it. And then, bam. Magic.

Andrew Bird: "Darkmatter," Armchair Apocrypha
Do you wonder where the self resides? / Is it in your head or between your sides? / And who will be the one who will decide its true location? On what is arguably the most rocking track from Armchair Apocrypha, Andrew Bird soars with whirling guitars, introspective lyrics, bold vocals, and that trademark whistle of his; in short, "Dark Matter" is a focused beam of ever-expanding energy that could blind the uninitiated.

Feist: "My Moon My Man," The Reminder
It was a toss-up between "I Feel It All" and "My Moon My Man." "I Feel It All" has self-consciously spunky lyrics (Oh, I'll be the one who breaks my heart/ I'll be the one who holds the gun), and the other is sexy and rowdy... and the video has dancing... on moving sidewalks! Nothing competes with moving sidewalks, ergo, "My Moon My Man" wins. The groovy bass and whispery vocals drive this song... straight to Funkytown. Oh snap.

Aqualung: "Pressure Suit," Memory Man
I could have chosen several from Memory Man, but I chose this one because it makes me happy. It soars high, but holds you close to its caring bosom for the ride. In terms of romantic indie piano ballads, "Pressure Suit" is the best there is: I'll be your four leaf clover/ I'll be your pressure suit/ I'll be your angel wings/ I'll be your parachute/ I'll be your running reason/ I'll be your only reason... swaddled by the whispering chant of "I can't stop loving you, I can't stop loving you." Well played, Mr. Hales... well played, indeed.

Lupe Fiasco ft. Matthew Santos: "Superstar," The Cool
Every rapper who tastes even a smidgen of success has to put out a song about what it's like to taste said smidgen of success. "Superstar" is Lupe's. Fellow Chi-Town native, Matthew Santos, donates a lazily soulful chorus that pairs nicely with LF's lively style.

Lisa Hannigan: "Last Leaf," The Cake Sale
At first, I was bummed to hear that Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan had ended their creative relationship; after hearing this track from the The Cake Sale charity album however, I realized she's going to be just fine...

Kanye West: "Good Life," Graduation
This is not the world's most beautiful, thought-provoking song. But just turn it up.

M. Ward: "Headed for a Fall," To Go Home EP
While M. Ward didn't release any new LPs this year, this song was on the To Go Home EP, released earlier this year. The music feels older than old, but thumps and swings with horns, and crashes around the studio with a blithe liveliness that's pretty damn rare in M. Ward's music. I enjoy this M. Ward. What do you say, M. Ward? More of the same to come?

Magnet: "Gospel Song," The Simple Life
Oh, Norway. Not known for much more than salmon and vikings. But Anglophonic singer/songwriter Magnet, released in a nugget of delicious pop with smoky vocals, plucked strings, dabs of cello, and group clapping... and man, I am a sucker for group clapping.

Beck: "Timebomb," Timebomb Single
Hey! More group clapping! On more than once occasion, I became embarrassed after realizing that I was not alone while I was dancing to "Timebomb." Luckily, the catchiness of this song possesses the power to distract from even the worst white girl dance moves.

Josh Ritter: "To The Dogs Or Whoever" & "Wildfires" (bonus track), The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter
Two songs from the same album, but nearly polar opposites.

With its ragged guitar, boisterous chorus, and schizophrenic lyrics that drag you across centuries, down to the depths of the ocean, to battle fields and a sun-speckled afternoon, "To The Dogs Or Whoever" is arguably the best song Josh Ritter has ever written. It's impossibly perfect - the sort of song that brings a fan to their feet and his musical contemporaries to their knees. This song is all the proof you need that Josh Ritter's love affair with words is more alive than ever.

"Wildfires" on the other hand, is an understated slow burner of an acoustic ballad, along the tonal lines of Ritter's own "Wings" or "Idaho." This bonus track to The Historical Conquests... gives goosebumps with its simplicity: you must be living on wildfires.../ that's why your eyes are smoke and ash/ you must be living on earthquakes.../ must be why my heart breaks every time you pass. The lamentation, the vast, nearly-empty expanse of the production, the guitar with a pulse so strong you'd swear it was alive... this one is a heartbreaker that really gets under your skin.

Okkervil River: "Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe," The Stage Names
The melodrama! The joy! The soaring, nearly cracking vocals! A little dissonance, zero to sixty and back again... and back again, this song is (sort of) reminiscent of the Talking Heads at their most riotous. That is to say, in spite of the tragic lyrics, this song is fun.

So that's it. That's the list. Happy New Year, all. May it be everything you wish it to be.

A couple musical highlights of the moment / Yes, I do listen to more than Josh Ritter.

2007-12-20T11:02:00.000-05:00

Josh Rouse | Probably exactly what you picture when you think "adorably sensitive and nerdy singer-songwriter." I'm a bit jealous of my brother because he was able to go to a Josh Rouse show - without even knowing who he was. But at least he ended up enjoying it. (And this is my brother we're talking about - the owner of a musical collection where house and techno reign supreme!) His style is dominated by American acoustic folk and blues, but as you can probably tell from the video below, he has embraced certain Mediterranean vibes since his relocation to Spain. Anyway, Josh Rouse (can't call him "JR" cause I've already got one... Maybe "JR2: Electric Boogaloo?") doesn't have a ton of music videos under his belt - he's a bit under the radar in that respect. But "Quiet Town" is quite appropriately not only one of my favorite Josh Rouse songs, but also a nice warm tune for a cold and snowy day. (P.S. Nature, wtf? More snow??)

The Kills | On the opposite end of the spectrum from Josh Rouse lie the duo, the Kills. They've got a dirty, sexy and dense NY/London rock sound... and the guy vaguely reminds me of Lou Reed, so bonus points there. And while they've always experimented with noise and sound, this one seems to have a little extra oomph. I can't wait until they release this single, "U R A Fever," to iTunes. (The album will be released in March.) This track is just... so freaking good. I love the aesthetics of the video, as well - it's so very... them.

OK. Enough said. Enjoy.

"And then the conversation degrades... you start talking about your favorite type of... lint."

2007-12-12T23:01:00.000-05:00

The day is a dull slate gray - chilly and damp. Earlier, I felt swaddled in an overwhelming fatigue that could have almost been construed as comforting... were it not for the fact that I was at work and couldn't succumb to a nice bout of warm exhaustion. The reason behind said inordinate level of tiredness?

Last night was the "Songs for a Friend" acoustic show with Josh Ritter and a couple of his bandmates - bassist Zack Hickman and keyboardist Sam Kassirer. It took place at the intimate (read "tiny") Club Passim in Cambridge. The last time I saw JR in concert, the temperature hit record highs, I had to swim like a desperate salmon against the brackish tide of Sox fans, and Park Street station caught fire... this time, the only thing that got in the way was a bit of cold rain. Emily (One Eye/Un Occhio), was totally my hot date and seemed to really enjoy herself. Now, it wasn't the raucous, foot-stomping Somerville show, but it was a lot of fun nevertheless. A lovely night and all for a good cause, as well. Both shows (I went to the 7 o'clock, there was also a 10 o'clock), were recorded and will be combined most likely into one disc of amazing joyfulness and released sometime... soon? I forgot about signing up for the pre-order, since I was so fixated on getting a poster. Oh swizzle sticks.

The show was simple and casual - you got the feeling that most people there knew the band in some way or another. That dang JR has got to have one of the most contagious smiles I've ever seen - combine that and the music and I regularly caught myself grinning like a creature without a central nervous system.

A few of the evening's highlights...

- JR stopped in the middle of "Girl in the War" to tell Zack to get on stage and sing. Zack then sang, charmingly/slightly out-of-tune, a song about his very best friend: his mustache. My favorite line (I'm probably paraphrasing here): people never ask me to babysit... Fan-freaking-tastic.

- The rendition of "Good Man." It was never really one of my favorite tunes of JR's, but performed live, it's more immediate, more striking and bare - especially My hands held on, my mind let go/ And back to you my heart went skipping... Even if you do possess an elaborate central nervous system (unlike myself apparently), you've got to find yourself smiling at that.

- Being a phenomenal songwriter himself, I found myself wondering why JR should bother covering other artists' songs - but he did a sweet Dylan cover and a really, really amazing cover of a tune by... someone whose name escapes me. Well, it'll be on the CD whenever they release that, so... I'll know one day.

- When Kate (the young woman for whom the benefit was held) got up to thank everyone, she gave a very brief speech and started to cry. Then I started to cry. Then everyone clapped. It was nice.

After the show, I ended up missing the earlier train back to Provtown, but it allowed me to go back to the venue and grab a very cool poster print (I'll try to post a pic of it later.) And luckily for me, Em hadn't yet caught her bus, so I had some pleasant company while wandering around Cambridge late on a Tuesday evening.

(About the pics... 1: can you tell I need a new digital camera? And 2: I have nothing against keyboardist Sam. I'm sure he's a cool dude. But there was most definitely a pole in the way of a good shot.)

Fast forward to the train ride home - I did the post-concert dorky fan thing and listened to my JR collection on my iPod. "Best for the Best" came up - a song he didn't even perform at the show - but I was apparently a little emotional yesterday because I started to well up with tears. It's a comforting song - one for tired souls. And I guess I'm just feeling a little tired these days.

Once I knew a girl in the hard, hard times
She made me a shirt out of fives and dimes
Now she's gone but when I wear it she crosses my mind
And if the best is for the best, then the best is unkind

Today's special: sloth.

2007-12-09T22:34:00.000-05:00

So I've been a bad blogger - it happens. Unfortunately, I can't use the old "I'm busy" excuse - it's just a case of the lazies that's got me.

Friday, I went out with Manda and Joj for Manda's slightly early birthday celebration. It'd been some time since I'd seen either of them, so that was cool. Nothing big or crazy (man, we're old), but good times nonetheless.

Today, Roberto came down to Prov town to sample the deliciousness of Julian's, a super chic - cross that- super scene restaurant near Federal Hill. They've got great food and a casual atmosphere. The music - loud but (generally) good. The staff - young and tattooed. I've had dinner there once before, but in general, their brunch is definitely worth getting up early for. After a hearty brunch, we tried to get some Christmas shopping done. Rob was semi-successful, but I left empty-handed. I'm still stumped on what to get the family. My dad liked the sweater I got for him for his birthday so much, he asked that I pick up another one in a different color... but that sort of takes the surprise out of it, non?

My bro went to Ireland a bit over a week ago for a long overdue vacation. He stayed in Dublin the whole time and enjoyed it in general, though one of the only things he said about it was, "it's like Boston... but with shorter buildings and better accents." I say Boston is like Dublin... but with taller buildings and worse accents. But, he did bring me back The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter on vinyl, which, unbeknownst to him, came out the day he found it. I believe that's what they call "serendipitous." We're hopefully going to hook up a sweet, albeit rather old, sound system this week, record player included. May my modest vinyl collection grow like the mighty oak.

Anyway, I'd give my eye teeth to go back to Ireland. Lovely place, wonderful people. One thing I've always wanted to do, even before I'd ever gone to Ireland, was to spend some holiday time in Dublin. One day, I'll do Christmas in Europe. Until that day, check out my bro's pictures from his trip. There are some pretty gorgeous ones in there.

Thus spoke A-Town.

2007-12-01T12:32:00.000-05:00

It took me three hours to get home yesterday. That's all I'm going to say about that.

Thanksgiving was nice this year - just the immediate fam... which is probably the way to go. My efforts consisted of roast garlic mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie. I would have liked to do more, but frankly, as much as I like to cook, the freak-out I had while mashing the potatoes told me that it's probably best that ease into the holiday dinner process.

For the past few years, I've gotten a little bummed at Thanksgiving, knowing full well that no Thanksgiving could ever compete with the Bufa Thanksgiving of 2004. It was like the first Thanksgiving, the loaves and the fishes, and... James Brown - all rolled into one. I dare anyone to make an amazing Thanksgiving dinner for ten people in Italy, with limited utensils, a fridge the size of shoe box, and a stove the size of an EZ Bake oven.

Magical times, my friends. Magical times.

The other day, I bought two one-way tickets to Ireland for April! Why, you ask? Because Rachel and I are doing it up as cheaply as possible. As much as we'll want to stay in Ireland - home of alcoholic wonders and the nicest general population ever - Italia and the Amalgamation will be calling. From Dublin, we'll hop on a cheap-o RyanAir flight to Bologna and hop on a train to Flo-town. Next step - buying the one-ways back. I'm not sure whether we'll be flying out of Barcelona with Aerlingus (they have a stop there) or with Ryanair. It's inexpensiveness vs. a slight convenience.

I haven't done any Christmas shopping yet, which is technically fine. It's not even December. But this whole "SHOP NOW OR YOU'RE SCREWED!" push by every retailer under the sun is making me panicky. Well, that, and I have NO idea what to get anyone. I have back-up ideas for my dad and brother, but frankly, I want to do something a little different (don't we all?)

I should get my dad "A Charlie Brown Christmas." He'd probably torch the DVD and chuck it out the window. It was on TV the other night, and upon landing on it, he just said, "oh dear God," like you would upon seeing a car accident or a crime against humanity. I don't have as strong a feeling about C.B.C. as my dear father, but then again, he's been bombarded by it for 20 some-odd years more than I have. Ugh.

I finished The History of Love a couple weeks ago. And even though (or maybe because) it felt like a companion piece to the author's husband's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, I enjoyed it. Very similar styles and storylines, really. I'll say this: if you dig Jonathan Safran Foer, you'll probably like this.

I also churned right through The Best American Nonrequired Reading, 2006. I read the collection from 2002 a few years ago, and was discouraged - there were some good reads, but nothing to get really excited about. Luckily, I borrowed the 2006 collection from my brother, and it totally turned my opinion around of the series. Oddly enough, Dave Eggers was the editor of both collection, but he really seemed to create a cohesive but somehow diverse book for this past year. There is a slightly leftist political bent to the collection, but what do you expect from an author/editor in the SF Bay Area? The introduction by Matt Groening is a pretty nice start to the whole collection - pretty much a declaration to his love of literature. I'm normally not a fan of short stories, but two of them, "Nadia" and "Peg" were... interesting. "Nadia" is about a man acquiring a mail-order bride, told from the perspective of a female friend; "Peg" is about... who knows what... a man going off the deep end, pretty much. It's one of those stories where you don't want to take it literally, but it forces you to do so. I like them more than dislike them, but struggled with both, all the same. "Shipwreck" (a quasi-journalistic look at the plastination process), "The New Mecca" (a piece on the uber-capitalist city of Dubai), and "Letting Go of God" (ex-SNL cast member Julia Sweeney's struggle with Catholicism) were all highlights.

Speaking of ditching the big cheese, I'm about a little more than half way through God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything by British-American author/journalist/pundit Christopher Hitchens. I'm an atheist and not a fan of religion in general, so in this case, he's "preaching to the choir;" I can see however, how this book could be offensive - even to people who don't subscribe to any particular religion. He's a bit brash and gets right down to business, mostly tearing apart the big three monotheistic religions, though sporadically, Hindu and Buddhism. He once said, "I'm not even an atheist so much as I am an antitheist; I not only maintain that all religions are versions of the same untruth, but I hold that the influence of churches, and the effect of religious belief, is positively harmful." He's a divisive individual, and interesting, to say the least. I'm going to hold off on saying anything else about this book or Hitchens until I'm finished with it, but I just felt compelled to say it's definitely interesting enough to keep me awake on the commuter rail... instead of conking out, mouth agape... a position in which I sometimes find myself, unflattering as it is.

I love long sentences.

A Festivus miracle.

2007-11-19T16:35:00.000-05:00

This past Friday was spent as Fridays are meant to be spent: getting stressed out and then having fun in spite of oneself. I attended the celebration of young Robert's passage into his 23rd year. There were rites and feasting... and by "rites and feasting," I mean "tequila and quesadillas" in Cambridge. Spending time with Wheaties is always nice. One Eye (aka Emily) and I almost immediately regressed back into our symbiotic college-era relationship: she nearly made me snarf frozen margarita and I was her interpreter for the evening. A couple of gems: You made me laugh I was crying so hard! and everyone's favorite, I know that the alcohol is working... because I want to touch people. And a conversation between One Eye and I...

Alec: I have the phrase "a Festivus for the rest of us" stuck in my head. Do you know what I mean?
One Eye: "It's a Festivus miracle." "An aluminum pole - I find tinsel distracting." "WE WILL NOW HAVE THE AIRING OF THE GRIEVANCES!" ...[deadpan face] I have no idea what you're talking about.

After dinner, we headed to Good Times (the formal title of which is "Good Time Emporium.") Senior year, we were dropped off at Good Times as our surprise senior outing. And it was a surprise, alright. The picture above was taken during one of the "Ladies Wrestling Nights" (which no one in our party attended... to my knowledge), but I'm just including that to illustrate its unique atmosphere. What can I say - I went for the birthday boy.

I was rereading Josh Ritter's blog this morning. Obviously, the man can write. Poetry. Prose. What have you. It would be amazing if he wrote a book. Yes. Josh Ritter should write a book. I'm sending this persuasive message through the power of the internet: Josh Ritter - write a book. Anyway, I liked this excerpt from his time in San Francisco, in particular:

...I stepped out into the street, where, wonder of wonders, there didn't seem to be any street. My foot caught on some kind of pylon, and as I fell I noticed that I was falling on to the tram tracks. "How cheesy," I thought to myself. "Dead on the tram tracks." After all these songs about trains, to be wiped out by a train's cousin, no matter how iconic a landmark of San Francisco it is, would be a back-handed irony. I waited for just a moment to get my breath and thankfully there was no tram close by. I got up and dusted myself off and started stating the obvious to passerby as people do when they do things like inexplicably fall. "I fell," I say to a group of Japanese tourists as they cross in the cross walk all around me.

I laughed. And not just because of the irony (though it's rather compelling), but rather because everyone has done something like that. We've all inexplicably explained ourselves to a group of Japanese tourists, literally or figuratively speaking.

For better or for worse, one of my most visceral memories from Firenze was slipping off one of their notoriously steep and slickly worn sidewalks on my way to class, and not predictably, falling all the way down and meeting the cobblestones, but rather, swooping towards the earth in a bizarre serpentine fashion, only to swoop right back up again like a stunt plane at a 4th of July air show while no part of me, other than my feet, touched the (questionably clean) streets of Florence, Italy. I was being followed by a group of young Italian men who laughed at me and earth-bound flight. The irony was that these laughing, grown men were all sporting mullets, tight acid-washed jeans and fanny packs, circa 1987.

But as I fell, I expelled one of the weirdest noises I think I've ever made. And this noise could only be described as a yelp.

Every time I think of that incident, it reminds me of Dave Eggers' "They Learned to Yelp" (here in The Guardian) from his collection of short stories, How We Are Hungry. It's one of my favorites from that collection. It's a relatively strong collection of work, and while I'm not a huge fan of short stories as a rule, I recommend it.

I met Dave Eggers very briefly at a book signing at Brown University this past summer. He was promoting his new book, What is the What? with Achak Deng, the Sudanese refugee whose life the story is based on - an "as told to" situation. Mr. Deng was cheerful and beaming as he signed my copy, happy to do so, and slipped it over Mr. Egger's side of the table. I should say that I really enjoy Dave Egger's work. He's one of my favorite contemporary writers, if not my favorite, and his other projects (McSweeney's and 826 National) are wonderful. Grass roots-ilicious. But I hate those 2 second book signings. You want to tell someone what their work means to you, that you hope they get half as much joy in creating it as you do devouring it... but you're there, with your name Sharpie'd on a post-it note so they doesn't even have to ask how to spell it, and you're left feeling like a jackass because all you managed to blurt out was "you're an amazing storyteller..." though I did sound less of an idiot than the girl in front of me, so I'm glad of that. ("You could get your Masters here at Brown!" He could also get a really good piece of pizza down the street, but that's not why he's here, either.) He smiled and thanked me like he hadn't heard that 6,000 times, and I left Brown's ironically hideous art building with a personalized copy of my least favorite Dave Eggers book (my qualms with the text stem from something that perhaps I'll explain at another time.) You just want to say, "I'm cooler than I'm coming across. Let's get a piece of pizza and I'll tell you my 'yelp' story. Complete with near-reenactment."

Some time this week, being that time of year, I'm sure my dad will hold the annual viewing of John Candy's opus, "Planes Trains and Automobiles." I remember the moment I found out Eryn's dad did the same thing. It was then that I knew we would be friends for a long time.

I did not see "No Country for Old Men," as I have been dying to, but thanks to a loud Starbucks employee this morning, I now know how it ends. I'll still see it, but talk about rubbing it in my face. But I revisited "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" this weekend. I somehow always manage to forget exactly how amazing that movie is. I always say it one of my favorites, but it still gets me every time I watch it. It's beautifully shot and directed; the writing is different and new, but not, for lack of a better word, polarizing. Strange and wonderful. My kind of movie.

"I wish I had stayed, too. Now I wish I had stayed. I wish I had done a lot of things. I wish I had... I wish I had stayed. I do."

Have a Happy Planes Trains and Automobiles day and may your babies not come out siiiideways.

Pop-Tarts? Oh no--what do you do with the Pop-Tarts?!

2007-11-09T15:01:00.000-05:00

I'm getting over quite a knock-out of a cold, meaning this long weekend is probably going to be spent somewhat conservatively. But one thing I really want to do is go see No Country for Old Men. It now takes movie-going precedence over the new Wes Anderson flick and American Gangster. Superficially, the most disturbing thing about it might be Javier Bardem's hair ("the haircut suggests a lost Beatle from hell"), especially since he is normally a rather god-like Spaniard. But the film itself looks like a great thriller--a stripped down, back-to-basics exercise in good movie-making. And Jeebus knows we could use more of those.

While confined to my room on one of my sick days this week, I realized, a full month later, that The Cake Sale was released. I am pleased. The whole album is streamed here and also available from iTunes. Lisa Hannigan's "Last Leaf", Glen Hansard's "Too Many People," and of course Josh Ritter's "Vapour Trail," are all phenomenal little pieces of aural wonderment. "Last Leaf" is simply gorgeous--really moving and the vocals are surprisingly assertive. After seeing Lisa Hannigan perform live with Damien Rice, I have a lot more respect for her--her voice was just as wonderful live as in-studio--she even nailed the opera vocals from "Eskimo Friend," which you may remember as being pretty epic. While I'm glad that she's branched off to do her own thing, I do hope that her creative relationship with Damien Rice hasn't completely dissolved--they make a good team. "Vapour Trail" (written by a member of Bell X1, hence "vapor" with the excess Brit-born "u"), is a warming, simple tune with a great sing-along-in-an-Irish-pub type chorus. And Glen Hansard (aka the long-lost Irish brother of Rachel's bf Mark), is quickly becoming a favorite musician of mine. I was never super crazy about the Frames (though to be fair, I've had only limited exposure to their stuff), but this solo/Marketa Irglova stuff he's been putting out has been really compelling.

I'm going to really nerd it up and say that "30 Rock" last night was, hands down, one of the best episodes yet. It was only after seeing the entire cast gathered together (along with a Harlem Globetrotter) that you realize that has never really happened before. I wish I could remember an especially hilarious line from last night's show, but they all spilled out of my head while I was convulsively laughing.

To round out this pinpoint of a microcosm of an informal post of contemporary culture, I'm currently reading The History of Love, written by Nicole Krauss, wife of one of my favorite writers, Jonathan Safran-Foer. If you had peeled the cover off, I would have guessed that it was written by JSF himself. Their prose is so similar, it's kind of"creepy," as my mom said. It has the same two-person narrative as Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close--one young, one old. It's riddled with Eastern European culture and Yiddish like Everything is Illuminated and the plot is also bound to a past tragedy. It utilizes the same sort of humor and form that he does... I haven't finished it yet, so I'll wait to see if it really is eerily similar to JSF's writing... But it really is.

Through the windows of midnight, moonfoam and silver.

2007-11-04T16:38:00.000-05:00

This photo is Rachel standing on a cliff walk in Ireland, 3 years ago. I wish I were still there.

Yesterday, I got a haircut. The woman caught the comb on my cartilage loop-earring and pulled out the ball bearing. It was lost to the salon floor. I have yet to buy a new one.

The haircut, though desparately needed, is to be considered average.

Also, I'm getting a cold. I swear by Zicam products, but they really need to create something that doesn't taste like metal butt.

The clocks have changed and the weather has turned. And much like changing wardrobe accoutrements to withstand winter, my music has taken a turn for the wintry. Sigur Ros, The Stills, Travis (mostly 12 Memories), Keane, Blur, Massive Attack, and Interpol now dominate many of my playlists. But then there's the warm drag of fingers over acoustic strings and the minor chords of a cold piano. Enter: David Gray, Nick Drake, Josh Ritter, Damien Rice, Jeff Buckley.

To illustrate my point, here's the very talented, very bobble-headed David Gray, singing one of my favorites, "Shine." Enjoy.

Ever get... urges?

2007-10-27T19:07:00.000-04:00

When Megan and I aren't exchanging stories about spiders after lunch (worst possible time ever for that, by the way), we try to keep it culture-centric. A couple of weeks ago, we were swapping stories about artistic urges... that is to say, the way you feel when you need to do something artistic--whether it's painting, drawing, writing, etc. With her, it's writing poetry, but our experiences are surprisingly similar. There's a distracting sort of little gnawing away at the back of your mind and very abruptly, you start feeling edgy--almost uncomfortable. Your muscles tense up, your heartbeat quickens, there's a rush of adrenaline--"it's almost... sexual," she hesitated to say, but I'm inclined to agree. It's a very primitive emotion for something that is, in essence, very human.

Usually, when I get the urge to paint or draw, I don't have immediate access to the materials that I need, so I end up frustrated and irritated, or sometimes, just downright surly. Very suddenly today, I felt the need to paint. It's almost like your body just grew without warning and your skin's not keeping up--you feel confined and the only thing to break out of that shell is to create. Unfortunately, it takes me about 5 minutes to set up to paint, and in that time so much can go wrong--mostly, you run the risk of losing the clear picture you've created in your mind. I did end up painting--I'm not very happy with what I painted, but at least I did it. There is relief in that.

I've noticed that when I feel compelled to write however, it's much easier. It's probably simply because I always keep a small notepad and pen with me, or I'm close to a computer, so there's a much shorter time between that sensation and the actual act of writing. But something I've noticed with the writing compulsion is that my brow literally jumps up when I get a thought I want to write down. It's just for a moment, but I must look startled and bemused--like I've just heard an elderly woman swear.

May your artistic urges be many, always be requited, and your facial expressions priceless.

Talk amongst ya'selves.

2007-10-26T15:55:00.000-04:00

This is amazing. I feel that Zack Hickman would be proud.

And now to add a little bit to a post that Eryn started. Since I'm at work, I'm not going to presently answer the more difficult questions, but I'll get to them soon.

Favorite Store Bought Cookie: You know, it's a tough call between the Oreo and the Mint Milano cookie from Pepperidge Farm. There's a Pepperidge Farm discount store (aka the "we sell expired cookies" store), just over the RI/MA border, so I may have to do some tie-breaking research this weekend. For the moment, I will default to the Oreo--Eryn's favorite--which always seems to be my favorite, as well.

Favorite Smell: I love the smell of beach roses. It rockets me back to summers spent camping on Hermit Island in Maine when I was a child. (It's as deceptively named as Rhode Island, as Hermit Island is actually a peninsula.) The swarms of bees, jumbo-jet mosquitoes, and a scooter wipe-out on a rocky dirt road pale in comparison to my memory of beach roses. The smell of a cool summer night is something of which I'll never get enough. The frantic smells of the day have sunken and the calm night air just lays over the fresh grass like a weightless blanket. It's peaceful, but not too peaceful, for somewhere in the distance is a Portuguese karaoke festival. Fantastico.

Favorite time/day of the week: Before I started this job, I would have said Friday night, but now I'm wiped out by Friday night. So, now I'm going to say Saturday afternoon. The day seems to have such promise after sleeping in (which at this point, is until 8:30 or 9), getting up, making coffee, leisurely getting ready, doing some yoga, then I like to hit the East Side for some (more) coffee or maybe some Thai or Antonio's... yesssss. I'm all for the simple things.

Favorite TV channel: Waaaaay back in the day when I had cable, it was between Travel, Food, and Comedy Central. Yes--three of my favorite things, which I guess means that a hilarious trip involving food would be ideal (Cinque Terre, post-dinner, A-Town giving Rachel a piggie-back ride--an amazing example.) Nowadays, if I actually watch TV, it's usually a PBS travel or science show, or "Father Ted" repeats. You can feel my vibrating waves of dorkiness from here, can't you? I don't care--"Father Ted" is amazing--the "Pete and Pete" of Ireland.

Favorite mode of transportation: Dublin light-rail. Absolutely. You're surrounded by people with charming accents who love to extemporaneously speak on nearly any subject, and all the stops are announced in English and Gaelic. A recording of a woman with a beautiful, futuristic voice says, "Smithfield... Nakherakrushnah..." Mmmmmmotherland! My Irish senses are tingling.

Favorite animal: Canines, in general, but wolves are such beautiful animals. Who can't embrace a creature that's the subject of quality airbrushed van art the world over? Polar bears, elephants, and gorillas round out the top 4 of my favorite animals.

Favorite childhood memory: Oh jeez. This is going to have to wait.

Favorite post-adolescent/adult memory: As is this.

In the meantime (and not that I give a hoot), but... how about them Sox?

'EY! MANNY!

Like we are all half crazy and all at least half alright.

2007-10-23T21:59:00.000-04:00

I got my tickets to the JR benefit gig, December 11th in Cambridge, a smidge more than two months after seeing him a couple stops down on the Red Line in Somerville. It's a tiny place and he's playing a ("mostly") solo acoustic show for the benefit of a friend with cancer. Good music and a good cause--during the season of giving? What more can you ask for? Should be amazing.

Obama was in Boston today for a rally, but I skipped it so I could get home before 9. Sorry Barack--but you don't need to preach to the choir. You got my vote, and frankly, a Democrat speaking in Massachusetts is like the Pope speaking in Brazil... you're surrounded by your biggest fans. But I guess it's a good ego-boost (especially with Hillary schooling him in the polls lately.) Whatever--his universal healthcare plan is by far the most solid. Go Barack.

But who am I kidding--I'll vote for whatever blue person is on the ballot.

Fin.

Of yoga, art, forums, and Finns.

2007-10-21T20:30:00.000-04:00

Oh you know... just listening to some Dusty Springfield, hanging outside, enjoying some té bianca. Cause that's how I roll on a Sunday. Went out for a late brunch on Wickenden this afternoon with Joj, cause you know, sometimes a girl just has to have some blueberry pancakes. It was nice enough to eat outside–-sunny and warm–-the last bastion of summer... perhaps.

I've been a pretty good A-Town lately. Made the switch to skim moo juice, and I'm not really sure why it took me so long. I've also started up a daily yoga routine after little Erin gave me a talking-to ("you have to find the time!"), and I'm glad that she did. I took it senior year and did it off-and-on for a while, but now I'm back with avengence--it's actually become something that I look forward to post-work. It's a great way to chill out and rid oneself of a long commute. And it's easier to keep up than running or biking since it isn't weather or equipment-dependent. We may have found a winner.

As if I really even need to say so, NPR is amazing. They've posted the recent Josh Ritter concert from DC on iTunes–-for free. And, immediately following the concert, there's an interview. The guy conducting it is a bit of a tool who apparently loves the sound of his own voice, but whatever... JR's rad. NPR's website also posted an acoustic in-studio of "To The Dogs or Whoever". It's a great time to be a Mr. Ritter fan or to become one (hint hint Eryn.)

I've been in a major lull for art work lately, but I've been writing more. They seem to balance each other out, but it's still frustrating to want to draw or paint, but find oneself with a blank page and a mind equally barren of inspiration. Tips as to beating the blank canvas syndrome are welcome.

Alright, it's getting chilly and dark, so I'm moving inside.

I had a classic lunchtime phone call from A-Town this week, and among other things, we spoke of where he and Eryn were going to be staying while in Rome--as far as I know, it's still up in the air. I've been trying to remember where we stayed as a class in Rome... not that I'm advocating that as a honeymoon destination. But it was very close to the Theatre of Pompey where Caesar was stabbed, and relatively close to the "Typewriter" in Piazza Venezia. It seems that you can't really go wrong in terms of what is surrounding you in Rome.

"This is where Augustus stubbed his toe and uttered, 'stupid Jesus sandals' ...truly curious, as Jesus was not active or alive during that time."

But I just want to advocate the NY Times travel section (here is their section on Rome.) It has everything. It breaks themes and topics down to manageable chunks. When looking at a place that you're not familiar with (say, Barcelona), it's almost a little overwhelming, but don't be alarmed. For the relatively OCD traveler such as myself, it's amazing.

One last item, Kimi Raikkonen, taciturn Finnish F1 driver extraordinaire, has (finally) won his first World Championship. Yeah, Kimi! It was beginning to feel like rooting for the Sox, pre-2004. As for you, Mr. Hamilton--maybe next year. You've still got quite a career ahead of you, so... don't blow it.

"Balls to the water."

2007-10-13T15:32:00.001-04:00

I was fishing through my closet today and found a cheapo video camera that I used during the Bufa Reunion of 2005. There was only about 9 minutes of footage on the tape, but it was like finding $50 in the pocket of a coat you haven't worn in years (though that's not to put a price on the Bufas.) I plugged that puppy in (unfortuntately, it's VHS), and it was nine golden minutes of the camera pivoting on the table, capturing Rachel, A-Town, Fink, me, and the one and only PL being... stupid. That is to say, us. We're singing along with John Mayer's brief foray into blues, out of key and getting the words wrong. We're playing a delectable game of Tunk, where I drag Team A-Town down, Eryn giggles like a giddy school girl, A-Town soulfully "sings," and Rachel plays air guitar with her teeth. And Fink is an old man.

Of course.

I'm happy to have found it, but it was also a sentimental reminder that I haven't seen three of those peeps face to face in two years to the day. How odd.

April's so far off.

But the music's never loud enough.

2007-10-06T22:00:00.000-04:00

Right when I stepped out of Back Bay Friday morning, I knew it was going to be a fantastic day. But before I get to why I was more right than I ever could have imagined, let me break it down like a fraction for ya.

The Journey

Work was unremarkable, though exceedingly slow. I got out in plenty of time for the 7:30 concert opening... or so I thought. Little Erin and I were going to the show together and I was going to swing by her apartment first, then we'd grab some pizza with E.C. and her friend before the show.

The T has a funny way of choosing when it catches fire.

Park Street, the main hinge of the T, combusted at rush hour on this particular Friday–the very Friday before a long holiday weekend. And, oh yeah, the Sox were playing. Amazing.

But apart from the relatively inconvenient delay, it was actually sort of beautiful. I went up to Tremont to see people literally filling the streets around Downtown Crossing and Park. All this was happening at sunset with the city just beginning to slip into its nighttime glow. It was surreal... like a very pretty and only slightly annoying apocalypse.

Eventually, the red line started running again and I was able to get to Davis Square and meet up with the girls. We desparately needed sustenance, so we got pizza in lieu of the bulk of the opening act's set. I am glad, however, that I got to see Old School Freight Train's version of "Heart of Glass" which was nothing short of genius.

As soon as I saw our seats, I began to smile with a grin that still remains plastered on my face at this moment. I was dead center, seventh row in a tiny venue. While we were waiting, Erin noted that it felt like the theatre had really great energy, and I have to agree. It was pretty electric, even when people were just waiting for the show to start.

The Show

Josh and the band came out and played a phenomenal set chock full of wholesome rocking goodness. They boiled with energy and enthusiasm, opening with "Mind's Eye" and "To The Dogs Or Whoever." The fact that they were having a blast playing up there made it so much more enjoyable for everyone. It was like permission to not take it too seriously. Josh was smiling away the whole time he sang, and 90% of the audience had the same expression reflected on their faces.

Unfortunately, I can't remember the whole set list, but some major highlights were "Rumors," "Me & Jiggs," "The Temptation of Adam," and "Naked As A Window" flowing into an assertive, electric version of "Girl in the War." "Monster Ballads" and "Here At The Right Time" were so beautiful that I welled up with tears. I liked those two songs before, but I love them now. His voice was clear and strong and the band was tight. He sang a full song without the mic, projecting out into the venue. It was amazing.

Josh also gets props for good banter, as I'm a big fan of concert banter. Ryan Adams is pretty good in a rambling-crazy-guy sort of way (when he bothers to actually speak), but Josh was humble and charming and just a little bit goofy--"...but avoid the deli section, where they're angry for no apparent reason..."

Long story, short, it was incredible and the most fun I've ever had at a show.

The Ritter

Afterwards, Erin and I went for a drink at a particularly classy establishment... and by "classy," I mean "questionable smelling," and by "establishment," I mean "closet with 60 people in it."

When we walked back by the venue, Josh was signing stuff and talking to fans. We stuck around to chat with him. I'm not going to say I wasn't nervous, because I sort of was, but I wasn't intimidated. He was just genuinely happy that people cared enough to hang out and talk to him about music and life and everything else.

We chatted about the show and random things (Erin: How are you sooo humble?), and I ended up giving him a dog tag from an on-going project by a Providence artist. It had occurred to me a while ago that its engraved quotation just seemed really in tune with his music and maybe some of the philosophy behind it. Apparently, my intuition was correct--he loved it. Really. "Oh man, I wish I wrote that line!" he said. He was so appreciative, and at the risk of using a bland word, he was nice. He was really, truly nice.

Even if he hadn't taken the time to talk to us, I would still buy his music and go to his shows, but the fact that he did simply reinforced why I dig him, his music, and why I would do something like give him that one particular token...

"in the smallness of this world/ in the smallness of this world/ in the small small smallness of this world."

"STOP. Just stop. Next time, I'm silencing you at the fifth syllable."

2007-10-04T21:43:00.000-04:00

Having just talked about The State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, I felt compelled to post this. An artist lived in the Providence Place Mall undetected for four years. That's 36 different kinds of amazing. Make sure to go to his website and look at his statement--it's pure gold. And judging from an article or two that I've seen, it sounds like the police weren't even mad... sounds like they were actually subtly impressed. I mean, who wouldn't be a little amused?

Fantastico.

Edit: by the by, this link was provided by Rob. I would give you his blog address, but he doesn't actually post. What a little bitch.

"The Dude abides."

2007-09-24T13:17:00.000-04:00

This weekend was spent doing what I actually enjoy doing: hanging out with friends, reading, enjoying some quality visual media, feeling ok about the state of cleanliness the house was in, and generally relaxing. I'll try not to dwell on the mysterious assmonkey who called my house at 8am on Saturday and 9am on Sunday (I'm assuming it was the same person.) But if I ever find out who it was...

Moving on.

Emily (One Eye/ Un Occhio) and (Ro)Berto came down on Saturday for the first time in forever... that is to say, ever, pretty much. We swung on swings at a children's playground and tried not to look sketchy about it. Indulged in Johnny Rockets shakes. Had some good coffee. Wandered around the East Side and generally, just caught up with each other. It's been months since I'd seen either of them. Next time, we shall go to the zoo. And I am serious.

Saturday night, I watched The Big Lebowski with my bro, which I'd just purchased on DVD for $10. I saw it once a couple years ago and remembered that it was sort of funny, but couldn't recall why. Watching it again on Saturday night, I loved it. I love when movies and whatnot turn out so much funnier the second time around. And the movie's weird, of course, but it's hilarious. Jeff Bridges is awesome (and a great photographer and artist.) My brother's feelings towards the movie, however, cooled upon second viewing. Interesting.

Sunday was a bit different. Just some grocery shopping and "Arrested Development." I also started Steinbeck's East of Eden which dragged for the first few chapters, but reading it during lunch today, it switched gears completely. I'm tempted to read it here at work since I catch my boss frequently reading a novel... but then again, she is the boss.

This weekend, I also became engulfed, for the second time, in Flight of the Conchords. They're a New Zealand musical comedy duo with a show on HBO of the same name. If you look for them on youtube, a delightful cross-section of comical music videos will pop up, like "Think About It, Think Think About It" and "The Hiphopopotamus vs. The Rhymenoceros." But the one I'm posting doesn't have any of their music, specifically--rather, it's Bret ("the cute one"), doing "The Angry Dance" from the season 1 finale. Not to over-sell it, but the first time I saw this, I laughed so hard I had tears streaming down my face. Hope you enjoy it half as much as I did.

Contention within.

2007-09-16T00:32:00.000-04:00

I saw 3:10 to Yuma yesterday- the remake, that is. It's good. In the truest sense of the word, it is good. Though a little slow at times, it's an interesting step towards the revitalization of the genre and there are some spectacular performances.

I'm especially amazed by Ben Foster. He was absolutely terrifying, in the way a cornered wild animal is terrifying. He plays a desperate, compulsive gunman driven by loyalty- and conversely- an absolute lack of conscience. His mindset is not one of coherent reason, but of swift and damning action. His on-paper one-dimensional character comes across as multifaceted on screen. He is a kamikaze Old West rockstar with six-shooters (sporting the best threads of any of the characters.)

After seeing Foster play a few bad guys as of late, I realized that his rather closely-spaced eyes lend themselves to a subconsciously "predatory" look. But while watching his interview on Charlie Rose, there is nothing "villainous" about him at all- he's timid- almost melancholy. It sounds obvious, but if you see the movie and then the interview, there is practically no semblance of the man in the character or vice versa. The change is extraordinary. Keep in mind, he didn't undergo any sort of huge physical change for the role (he has a beard... big deal.) He just has an incredibly expressive face and is a richly talented and compelling actor unafraid of a challenge.

With this movie, Russel Crowe is back on my good list. He seemed to relish playing his character and ran with it- a charming and deceitful outlaw, who chooses between killing men or breaking them. He's so good, it's almost hard NOT to root for him, though he's obviously a bad man (albeit a complex one.) Christian Bale never left my good list and gave a solid performance as a desperate, down-on-his-luck everyman.

The relatively straightforward plot of 3:10 to Yuma is given substantial depth by a rounded cast and dynamic but classic direction. It will be interesting to see how The Assassination of Jesse James, There Will Be Blood, and my pick, No Country for Old Men all compare to this, both in terms of quality and of bringing something new to the classic but somewhat passé genre of Western. The bar has been set.

Pardon?

2007-09-13T20:26:00.000-04:00

I like Benjamin Biolay. I really do. He's a phenomenal producer, a great musician, and he's married to an offspring of Marcello Mastroianni. He blends genres seamlessly and while his voice isn't super-powerful, it has a distinct, sexy sound and he rocks it. I have three of his albums, plan on getting the latest when it comes out here, and always spread l'amour de Benjamin où je peux.

Mais... these days he's looking a bit... rough. A far cry from the pouty prince of French pop of 5 years past (see photo.)

Alors, all shallowness aside, I love the new single. I'm glad he steered away from the acoustic bossa nova French 60's whispery duet thing. Thaaaat made me want to vom. The video for this latest song, however, makes very little sense to me. If you take into account that it's so French it could start chain-smoking and eating odoriferous cheese at any moment, it makes slightly more sense... mais, toute la même... je suis perdu. Also, bear in mind the title of the song means "Let the Dogs Bark." Quoi?

Benjamin Biolay - Laisse Aboyer les Chiens

All roads lead to...

2007-09-09T18:50:00.000-04:00

I've had time to think. Whether on the train or during downtime at work, my mind's been going nonstop, more frantically than before. I've pretty much given up TV and while the future of that abstinence is uncertain, lately, I've been reading a lot, writing a lot, drawing a bit, and thinking a ton about Italia.

I've been chipping away at The Genius in the Design: Bernini, Borromini, and the Rivalry That Transformed Rome during my commute and lunch breaks. I've always been a fan of Bernini, but I've come to appreciate Borromini more, even though he was apparently quite a chore. So far, it's been a very even-handed and interesting look into the lives of two very different, but very talented men- both involved in the some of the most amazing projects of the era.

Reading about some of Bernini's works especially, I thought to myself "what? I didn't see that- I have to go back!" I don't remember seeing Truth Unveiled By Time, though it was in Galleria Borghese, which we visited. And while I'm kicking myself for that, David was by far the numero uno piece piece of art I ever wanted to see. Visiting it was something of a religious experience. I left Helen's side to see Dave, before she mangled my perfect idea of him with her subjective spiel... "whatever." The only other person in the room was Ryan- we nodded at each other in silent understanding. Being in the presence of something so much larger than yourself, figuratively speaking. The Colosseum yells over you with its might... Bernini silences you.

Second to that piece is Bernini's sculpture of Constantine, which I saw... from a distance. A pretty great distance. About 200 feet. Thanks, Vatican. And I had no idea that Bernini designed the fountain at the base of The Spanish Steps... the very same fountain Helen practically dove into for a drink. No cup required. Practically half of the public art in Rome was sculpted, designed, or overseen by Bernini. Apparently, he was quite busy. (No TV.)

I got my first paycheck this past Friday, marking the first step towards Italia. The Amalgamation is about seven months away- once it hits 6, I'll flip. Anyway, I'm looking to take off maybe 10 days of work for it. One of the days is accounted for (yeah Boston and Patriot's Day!), so maybe I'll stretch it a little longer. If this past week has been any sort of accurate depiction of the rest of the year, they should be able to get along fine without me. Work study students are the best resource ever.

I traveled a lot with Rachel while in Europe (we hit Milan, Ireland, Tuscan countryside, Cinque Terre, and Switzerland), and we know that we can live and travel together, so it made sense that we team up for the Amalgamation. (Question: why does the creepy Funny Farm mascot wear a vest? Is he McLovin?) Rach is excited for it, writing in her most recent e-mail, "When I think about the wedding, I want to shout 'gheluueewoooooh!' from the top my apartment!" Since there are so many possible countries/cities to travel to, I figured we should both write separate lists of cities we're dying to visit- then, we see where we overlap. If we don't, then we could visit both of our top choices. She just sent me her informal choices: Prague, Sweden and/or Denmark. I've thought about Prague, but Barcelona is sticking in my mind like delicious sticks to gelato. Eryn has said that it's one of her favorite cities, and Samantha Brown (my second favorite travel show host (behind Ian of "Globe Trekker")), has said that it's her favorite city in the world. (I just googled her and she now has a new "Passport to Latin America..." nice!)

At the moment, I'm leaning towards Barcelona, Berlin, someplace in Greece, Amsterdam or Corsica. I'll probably have to limit myself to Florence and one or two other cities, so as to not become insane, broke, and exhausted. In any case, this trip is going to be expensive, but I hope to plan it as efficiently, reasonably, and comfortably as possible. While Sweden is tempting, I wouldn't mind going someplace that wasn't freezing. I'm guessing that late April is pretty mild in most of Europe, but I don't want to have to bring a big coat. I'm in a very Mediterranean mood. Who knows? There's still seven months, right? And FYI, I'm open to suggestions.

Monza, the Italian Grand Prix (Ferrari's home race) was today. Unfortunately, Ferrari only placed third. But it reminded me that it three years ago when I contemplated skipping SACI orientation to go to Milano for the race. Yes- it was almost exactly three years ago that I arrived in Florence- jet lagged, completely dehydrated, and stuck with a sketchy guy roommate and a migraine. That was probably the worst day of my life. And yet, there was nowhere to go but up.

Oh, Italia. You are a life lesson wrapped in sass and spaghetti.

Playing catch-up.

2007-08-30T20:22:00.000-04:00

My new job started this past Monday. I can tell that commuting over such a distance has its good days and bad days. As of yet, there have mostly been bad days. There are a lot of variables that weasel their way into an otherwise normal, lengthy commute and just turn it to crap. As I learn and can handle more at my job, it'll reduce the stress factor somewhat, but that commute just kills me. So far, however, everyone's nice at the new travajo, which is encouraging.

In my life that is not related to work (which was hastily reduced to pretty much nothing), I got two pretty good seats (middle of the 7th row, orchestra center), for Josh Ritter in October. I'm very excited. I've heard/seen some of his live recordings and they're amazing. His voice is just as wonderful live as it is in studio... and he smiles and rambles when he sings, which may be my favorite thing about him... apart from the awesome lyrics and our similar geographic history.

To sum up this rather brief posting, I shall quote the great contemporary poet, Megan Collins.

I'm so beat. Like someone picked me up cause they thought I was a tennis ball and just chucked me against a garage door for 4 hours singing Hanson songs.

As true today as it was when it was written...

The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter

2007-08-23T19:34:00.000-04:00

Josh Ritter's The Animal Years was released last year to critical acclaim, and rightfully so. The songs are a gorgeous cross-section of styles and themes: from the poignant "Girl in the War," to the run-away train of a song "Lillian, Egypt," to the sweet and satisfying "Good Man." Just a short year later, The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter is a vibrant continuation of his increasingly exceptional body of work.

Even from the opening song, "To The Dogs or Whoever," Ritter effortlessly works a thematic dichotomy involving love and... everything else. It's a kaleidoscope of a song– a loose and playful ode to a lover, juxtaposed with passing philosophical mentions of generals and Jesus, water and war– all set to a foot-stomping beat, chugging along on its own accord. As if to remind the listener how seriously they should take this song however, he belts out, "lemonade on your breath, sun in your hair–did I mention how I love you in your underwear?"

The album quickly takes a dark turn into "Mind's Eye," a surprisingly aggressive track with tight, sharp vocals riddled with just the right amount of spite: "my day might be comin', yours is comin' first..." It's followed by "Right Moves," a groovy, upbeat love song with playful intentions and a danceable beat. Other highlights include the gutsy and in-all-ways-rocking "Rumors" and "Wait For Love (You Know You Will)"– a beautifully sloppy song with colorful, twangy vocals and production so warm it could have been recorded on a front porch in Austin. The album keeps a brisk pace with enough quiet moments to catch your breath (with the delicate song about love and nuclear war, "The Temptation of Adam" and the sentimental "Still Beating.") Throughout the album, piano and horns add an appealing texture to a solid acoustic base. The production varies appropriately from track to track, but remains cohesive– breathing just enough heat into each song to create a perfect album for late summer. Thunderous and lusty, The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter blithely rides the line between out-right levity and late-night rumination.

Josh Ritter is the cream of the crop of this generation–his music is smart and dense and beautiful–riddled with history, metaphor, mystery, winks of the eye and nods of the head. He's frequently gets the flattering comparisons to the likes of Leonard Cohen, Bob Dylan, and Johnny Cash–but Ritter is very much his own man, with a body of work worthy of the aspirations of his peers. Richly complex, his songs are swaddled in tradition without ignoring the immediacy of now. In Josh Ritter, American songwriting has found its balance and its hero–with his head in the present and his heart in the past.

An Andy Rooney moment

2007-08-22T23:02:00.000-04:00

The fleur-de-lis is a decorative royal symbol of France, Quebec and even part of Switzerland. Also, a variety of the fleur-de-lis is the symbol of Florence. AND it's the symbol of New Orleans. And speaking of the Big Easy, the fleur-de-lis is also the symbol which graces my favorite coffee cup, which Rachel made me a couple years ago.

I went to the mall with my mom today, looking for clothes... and trouble... but mostly clothes. And everywhere we went, there was a plethora of fleur-de-lis. It is truly "le symbole du moment." We went to a craft store yesterday (just furthering my nerdom), and everywhere we looked there were stencils and iron-on's and bedazzling pattern kits for fleur-de-lis- yes- it has trickled down to the backwardly-chic Bedazzlers of America.

But what gives? Who started this trend? I feel like I should write a letter... but... to whooom? There have got to be some French watching MTV right now saying, "quoi?" And in Italia, SGM tilts his head and sighs in all-too-familiar disappointment, for he knows his city's wonderful symbol has been used on something that has undoubtedly been worn by Lindsay Lohan between arrests.

Or, it could just be like everyone wearing "I <3 NYC" shirts. Except, everyone knows what NYC is... does everyone know what a fleur-de-lis is? But, I could just be overreacting since I've been working on a fleur-de-lis print and am now pissed that the mass consciousness is saturated with this symbol enough and has lost all meaning.

Next time your out at your local "centre commercial," take a look around and try not to furrow your brow at the numerous abuses against our beloved Firenze... and France, too, I suppose.

Cupid's gettin' married, y'all!

2007-08-18T17:20:00.000-04:00

Why do I feel like I should get this shirt for The Amalgamation?

Instead of buying something constructive with my Borders gift certificate, I went with something perhaps more absorbing. What can I say? Bernini's my boy. Had I found a particular book on Caravaggio, I would have been at an awkward stand-still in Borders, weighing the two options out in my hand as though choosing which would live on and which would die on the shelf, all while my brother stood aggravated, while we were supposed to be at the Superbad veiwing. I have to wrap up Travels With My Aunt, that's been a pretty great read, itself... and then I'll dish on all the Baroque shenanigans (of which there were surely aplenty.)

And lastly, my friend and all-around awesome chick, musician Roz Raskin just put up her fun acoustic take on "Umbrella" on youtube. The audio's a little flat, but it's pretty sweet. If you like it, check out her myspace.

Third time's the charm.

2007-08-17T19:33:00.000-04:00

I was offered a job today. Nice, huh? I had the interview for it yesterday and they just called me this afternoon. It's not a super cool position or anything, but it's at a good college. Employees can take two classes a year, amongst other pretty sweet benefits. It's a long commute, but it will encourage me to move my ass up to Boston sooner than later.

I didn't formally respond yet, just because I wanted to sleep on it, so as to look like a responsible adult... before I eat ice cream in celebration.

Waffle cones, sucka!

You don't want to meet a woman in a bar... go to a farmers' market... a pumpkin patch...

2007-08-16T22:49:00.000-04:00

I've been dying to see Superbad since I first saw the trailer back in March or something and was afraid it would disappoint- one of those movies where they stick all the jokes in the trailer... Well, I don't want to oversell this or anything, but...

Superbad may be the greatest movie of all time.

The bro and I caught a free screening this evening and it not only had a large quantity of laughs, but said laughs were quality, as well. I'm already wondering when I can see it again since I was too busy doing my best ErynExplosion™ impression over half of the jokes. The movie so crammed with goodness you get neither bored, nor fatigued. Everyone is perfect. There are essentially two storylines in the movie: one involving Seth and Evan trying to get to a party and the other with Foggle (McLovin) being taken under the wing of a couple of doltish cops. Seth (Jonah Hill) is the human id personified– so skeezy and lecherous, but his snappy, crass humor is in perfect balance to the relatively sensible, naive, and sweet Evan (Michael Cera... also of "Arrested Development" fame) who was FANTASTIC. And McLovin (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) was also amazing- especially for what is his first role, apparently. Seth Rogen (who co-wrote), and Bill Hader are completely hilarious as the cops (hence the subject line of this entry).

Long story short, I can't even do a half-way decent faux review because I just freaking loved it so much. Just go see it. Then we can talk about it. Maybe go to the mall. Hold hands. Whatever.

I was singing without knowing the words

2007-08-13T11:35:00.000-04:00

I'd had a few Josh Ritter songs sitting in ye olde iTunes library for a while, but for some reason, I didn't give any of them (other than "Wolves" and "Lillian, Egypt"), more than a couple listens. But something just clicked recently and I fell head over heels for his music. He's got a new album coming out next week and the first single, "To the Dogs or Whoever", is exuberant and gorgeous. In spite of low funds, this may be an album that I buy day of, without hesitation.

Below is a video from his last album, The Animal Years, for the beautifully moving "Girl in the War."

And you've got to love a ridiculously cute Idahoan who smiles so much while he's singing. (HOW did I miss that show?? In my favorite and most-visited part of Boston, no less!)

I'll probably do another post later today, but that's all for now. Enjoy!

On the subject of Art.

2007-08-06T23:58:00.000-04:00

Yes, Art with a capital "A."

I'm a pretty big fan of This American Life. My local PBS affiliate still hasn't picked it up, but recently, the show has been putting their broadcasts out in podcast-form.

For those that aren't familiar, the show follows a relatively consistent format: it's an hour long radio program with an introduction to a theme (sometimes literal, sometimes abstract), followed by three or so stories adherent to that theme. The thing about these stories is that they're all true. They're about real people and the thrills and the cuts and the bumps that they withstand. It's a basic idea, yes, but the execution and the work involved is exceptional. Going out and sifting through people's stories- finding ones that are not only entertaining, but that really strike a chord. Its host, Ira Glass, is a rather straight-forward but compelling storyteller. He usually conducts the interviews and moves the stories along, but the majority of the story-telling is done by the people who are the focus. It really is a straight-from-the-horse's-mouth deal.

This American Life has been additionally adapted into a half-hour TV show on Showtime and is for sale in the iTunes store. I've seen three episodes so far, and they're all quite good. They have an interesting feel: part documentary, part science show, part history program. Once again, shout out to their fantastic editors.

If you find people endlessly fascinating like I do, I recommend both programs.

Back to radio program, one of my favorites episodes is actually the second most recent new one (non-repeat, that is), entitled "Who Can You Save?" Simply an incredibly compelling episode that examines how people value others' lives, both scientifically and socially, how far would one go to save another, and more. Just a warning- This American Life, this broadcast in particular, can make you laugh and weep.

This week's episode is "Blame It on Art," an interesting (and somewhat sympathetic/understanding), take on art and artists. It begins with chatting about France and the Renaissance and Florence and art... so obviously, I was glued to my speakers. But the show explores themes like success, rejection, jealousy, and alienation in the art world in a slightly different way than the norm (can you say "balloon animals?") But those themes and feelings are universally known to all artists in one form or another. Here is the direct iTunes podcast link for that particular show.

You just need to listen to it because I could pretty much just quote Ira Glass' entire intro about how sadly weird and hard it is to be an artist and get respect (though he steers away from feeling too badly). It really is a noble and simultaneously degrading, life-long endeavor... and I'll stop myself there. But do- DO- take a listen to the show. They have them all streaming on their website and the most recent episode is available to download from iTunes at the podcast link just above here. We'll get a coffee and talk about it. It'll be great.